


Fire Emblem Awakening - Talking About Anything

by 017Bluefield



Series: Project Bluefield [2]
Category: Fire Emblem: Kakusei | Fire Emblem: Awakening
Genre: 2014, Canon Compliant, Drabble Collection, Gen, Juxtaposition, Modern Era, Modern Kids In Fantasy Setting, Original Characters - Freeform, POV Original Character, Postmodernism, Set After 2012
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-07-24
Updated: 2016-07-24
Packaged: 2018-08-30 13:26:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 50
Words: 39,933
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8534920
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/017Bluefield/pseuds/017Bluefield
Summary: [ Open To Requests ]
In which the Ashen Wolves and the Shepherds talk about fighting, happiness, food, and various other matters. A series of Project Bluefield a.12 X Fire Emblem Awakening drabbles (whatever that means). Reviews are appreciated!





	1. Two Blades

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Bluefield has a brief talk with Lon'qu. While sparring. With blades.

#### "Two Blades"

#### Bluefield

* * *

_CLANG! CLANG!_

"Y'know, a philosopher from my world once said to never give a sword to one who can't dance."

Lon'qu deftly deflected my next strike. "…And?"

"I find that statement ironic because: 1.) I was given a sword, and 2.) I have never danced in my life."

"Hmph."

_CLANG! CLANG CLANG!_

"Hnngh—!" Forcing his sword hand skyward, I swung wide, causing Lon'qu to lose his grip. His Killing Edge fell to the ground with a dull Thump.

We stared at each other, panting heavily.

"…Hm. Well fought," the myrmidon decided.

"You…think so?" I asked, breathing heavily.

Lon'qu nodded. "I can see why you're a veteran. You've fought with…a drive that you've used from the beginning."

"Huh." I shrugged. "I always thought it was the will to survive."

"Hm."

"You, on the other hand—"

"I fight to grow stronger," Lon'qu stated. "That's why I decided to join the Shepherds."

"Huh. For me, that's a means, not an end." I shrugged again. "But that aside, the goal to become stronger…we seem to share it."

Lon'qu nodded, a small smile slowly forming. "Yes… It seems so."


	2. Stargaze

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Frederick the Wary interrupts Trey's break. Kind of.

#### "Stargaze"

#### Trey

* * *

"Erm, it's a little hard to see the stars when someOne's standing above me."

The knight (no pun intended, as you will see) took a step back. "Hm. You're rather relaxed tonight, Sir Trey."

"I guess," I shrugged—an action made hard to see due to the lack of light and the moonlit shadow of a certain knight. "Come to think of it, you're one of the few Shepherds who I've _never_ seen relax."

Frederick took a few steps to the side, ensuring that there were no stones between him and the point three feet to my right. "Of course," he said. "I cannot afford a moment's worth of lax to impede my efforts in serving Chrom and the exalt."

"That sounds rather unrealistic…"

"Perhaps, but it is necessary."

"Uh-huh…"

A shooting star suddenly streaked across the sky. Remembering Burna's comments, I made a silent wish.

"Y'know," I said once I was done, "every world I've been to has had a different sky."

"In what way?"

"Well, for one, there's nighttime." I sat up as I swept a hand to the sky. "The stars up there don't make the constellations that I know from back home. Here, there could be one for the divine and fell dragons, and I don't see it."

I heard Frederick shift in his armor. "You could ask Miriel, if you want to find out. I'm not the best person to discuss such matters with."

I sighed as I flopped back down. "I'll keep that in mind."

"Trey? Frederick? Dinner's ready!"

Oh… I thought as I got back up. Guess stargazing will have to wait.

"You coming?" the voice called again.

"Yeah, hang on…" Getting to my feet, I began trudging up the hill, pausing only to look at Frederick. "You coming?"

"Of course. Someone has to make sure that tonight's dinner isn't poisoned."

I sighed. "Oh, you won't have much to worry about from Blu's curry and rice."

* * *

"That sounds rather unrealistic…" - Bit of context: this was _before_ we ran into Kjelle. The training routines she undergoes show an _obscene_ level of entry. —Trey


	3. Dragon Tending

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which a prospective courtship is shot down before it even happens.

#### "Dragon Tending"

#### Dreyza

* * *

GreyScale shuddered as I scratched him behind the ears. And the horns.

"You like that, kid?" I asked him.

"Prrrrrrr…" If dragons could purr—or, at least, make a purring noise—this one definitely could. GreyScale swished his tail, slowly enough not to topple a tree. Then again, he was taking a much-needed rest. The battles across the sea and at Valm Harbor had not been very kind. Even when the Luminos barged in, we all barely managed to come out alive and in one piece—and GreyScale was part the reason for that. Kind of hard to terrorize the townsfolk when a dragon has ripped your massive head off, after all.

"Oh, my!"

I turned to find Cherche and Minerva standing some feet away, looking as though they'd just rounded the corner.

"Ah, Cherche," I said, waving my hand. "What's up?"

The Wyvern Knight approached GreyScale with a fascination. "Amazing," she marveled. "Such strong, supple scales! What ornate horns he has! Where did you find this magnificent beast?"

GreyScale and I traded looks. I'm pretty sure he was thinking, _Whaaaaat?_

"Uh, Bluefield. He wanted to make sure that we Zeros are all on an equal footing with each other. So he convinced his employer to give us each some form of familiars."

"Ah, I see."

"Not like Blu or his predecessors; they had to have binding contracts with…" I paused to find a suitable substitute for Immortals. "…some very 'influential' individuals."

Minerva made a bloodcurdling screetch before turning away.

I rubbed my ears. "Ouch."

"Minerva?" Cherche looked rather concerned with her wyvern's reaction. "Is something the matter?"

At the same time, GreyScale let out a thin line of smoke before curling his neck away slightly.

"Grey?" I asked, though I wasn't entirely surprised.

Cherche looked at me, shrugging. "Well, it seems like our friends aren't interested in each other."

I chuckled. "I suppose not!"


	4. Not A Kid

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which a precocious youth bawks at the prospect of "adults playing games".

#### "Not a Kid"

#### Bluefield

* * *

"What are you doing?"

I looked up. Ricken was standing beside the wooden fence, which I was sitting on. I hadn't even sensed him, but it didn't bother me too much. "Taking a short break," I replied. "Is there something wrong with that?"

Ricken scratched the back of his head. "Then…what are you doing with that foldable blue box?"

I looked down at it. _Oh, my Nintendo 3DS?_ …is what I _could_ have said. But no. Extra jargon wouldn't help.

Instead, I held it up for him to see. "Oh, this thing?" I simply said. "I'm playing a game on it."

The mage stared at me. "What?" he asked in disbelief. "You're playing a _game?_ You? Mister Trey's mentor?"

I sighed. "And _this_ is why I can't talk to people about things like this…"

"Huh?"

"Nothing, nothing."

"So…is that how it is in your world?"

"What is?"

"That adults play games?"

"Well, some certainly do. My parents definitely don't, but that's mainly because they weren't raised in the years when things like this"—I held up my 3DS again—"were being made 'n' sold."

"I…see…"

"Besides…" I shifted uncomfortably. "You'd think a few wars would be enough to make me grow the hell up. …It wasn't."

I was already looking at the ground at that point, so I didn't see Ricken's reaction. "Oh… Sorry if I—"

"Forget it, forget it," I sighed. "I shouldn't've brought it up." I snapped my 3DS shut before pocketing it.

Good grief, have things gotten awkward.

As I stood up, I looked back at Ricken. "Look—I know you're not a kid, but it's alright to _be_ one, at least every once in a while."

And with that, I ran off.

 _Still got three laps to go,_ I thought.


	5. For Every Ending, A Beginning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the truth smarts a bit, and Bluefield gets worried.

#### "For Every Ending, A Beginning"

#### Endragon

* * *

 **Information** : The following conversation took place in front of the Shepherds' Garrison building, 5 days before Khan Flavia requested Chrom's audience regarding the threat of Valm. The individuals involved are:

  * Prince Chrom of Ylisse
  * Endragon



* * *

_"Ah, if it isn't the exalt."_

"…That's my sister's title. I'm not worthy of her station yet."

_"I suppose that makes us somewhat similar, then."_

"Hm?"

_"I never wanted to be an Immortal. I certainly never wanted to become a manifestation of a concept."_

"And what 'concept' are you talking about?"

_"The end of each and every thing."_

"…So, when Emm…"

_"No. I don't sense deaths. That's the territory of one of my fellow Immortals—an ironic fact, really. But nevertheless, I have no clue as to what happened to her after that day."_

"…"

 _"But I_ do _know one thing: this era of peace, these two years of stability that you and your Shepherds have secured…it is about to end."_

"What?"

_"You needn't believe me. I have no intention of convincing you. All things come to an end. 'Good', 'bad', 'happy', 'sad'—it is a fact."_

"…"

 _"Make no mistake: the time_ will _come when you must take up the Falchion again. And as the end of this peace comes, you and the Shepherds will be ready. I'm certain that_ she _will be, as well."_

"'She'?"

"Good luck, Chrom of Ylisse. You all will need it in the future."

"Hey! Wait!"

* * *

#### Bluefield

* * *

As the shadow passed overhead, I turned the corner to find not Endragon laying in the grass, but Chrom instead. The man was standing several feet away from an imprint on the ground. His back was towards me.

Realizing what the shadow was, I spun 180 degrees to see the Immortal flying away, wings spread out to a T.

 _What the hell…?_ I thought.

Turning around, I walked up to the prince. "Hey, Chrom—what happened?"

He turned, and I saw in his face…I don't know what it was. Contemplation? Worry?

"Chrom," I said, trying to sound calmer than I was. "What did Endragon tell you?"


	6. Bullet Points & Coffee

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Inigo asked Vespyr out to tea...and _this_ happened instead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **EDIT (before 12/17/2016)** : Edited from original post.

#### "Bullet Points & Coffee"

#### Vespyr

* * *

" _Noooooo,_ nonono. Not tea. It's freaking _mud,_ for all intents and purposes. No—I drink coffee. And _sometimes_ soda, but mostly coffee."

Inigo's face didn't fall, but he did look confused. "Coffee? You have coffee?"

I mentally facepalmed. "Ah, right. Hang on a tick…" Deciding to show rather than tell, I reached up to my WCD and pressed quick-dial key five.

_Beeeep… Beeeep… Click!_

"Hello?"

"Bluefield? Hate to ask you, but can you get us some French Vanilla?"

"'Us', huh? Okay, gimme a sec."

"Thanks." I ended the call, then stretched in my seat. "The coffee will be here shortly."

* * *

#### In the interest of time…

* * *

"Here you go: coffee for one One and one Zero," Bluefield declared as he set down the coffee tray onto the lunch table. The whole kit 'n' caboodle: the coffee machine, the coffee mugs, the cream packets, the sugar—the works.

Inigo gawked. "Th-This is coffee?!"

"Wha… _no,_ dude," the old man sighed. He grabbed a mug, held it under the coffee machine's spout, and held down the button. It took 10 seconds to fill the mug with steaming hot coffee. " _This,_ sir," and here, Bluefield showed the contents of the mug to the mercenary, "is my world's coffee."

Inigo stared at the mug as I filled my own mug. He took a sniff and said, "Huh… What a strange yet heavenly aroma. But, are you sure that _this_ isn't mud?"

_I_ stared at him. "Does _mud_ smell heavenly?"

Bluefield looked back and forth between us, starting to look awkward.

Inigo thought about that question. "I suppose not…" He hesitated briefly before daring to take a sip. "Gah! That's hot! And bitter!"

I laughed before blowing off the steam from my mug and taking a long drink. "Mmmmm… That's just the wake-up call I needed."

Blu looked at me. "All right, I need to go back to checking inventory. Vespyr, can you return this stuff to the Silver Bird once you're all done with it?"

I shrugged. "Eh, sure. Didn't have anything big to do yet, anyway."

"Okay, thanks." Then he glanced at Inigo, who was trying to take another sip, before leaving.

I watched the old man walk off. "Y'know, for a mentor, Blu's also the kind of 'layman worker' who fills in the gaps," I commented. Then I turned to Inigo. "…Something wrong?"

The merc looked a bit dejected, swishing his coffee around in his mug. "Do you and Sir Bluefield…um…"

My eyes widened. "Wha— **NO.** Nonono. No. No, no, no. Not a chance in hell. Nope. Nope. No."

Inigo pulled back slightly. "Whoa, easy! I was only asking!"

I groaned. "Look. He's my _brother's colleague._ Why the freak would he have a thing for his mentees/colleagues' siblings?"

"Um…because…"

"Geez, you're probably worse than your friends think." Another drink.

Inigo winced, though he _may_ have been exaggerating slightly. "Oohhhh, you wound me, madam."

"Whatever. Now if you don't mind…" I pulled out a thick wad of paper and let one end of it rustle to the floor. "I have a list of bullet points that explain why there is _no_ chance in hell that you talking with me will give you or me any benefit of any description."

The merc's jaw dropped. "What?! Surely this list is only a mere hindrance?!"

I sighed as I slowly reached for my head. "Well, I _could_ emphasize with some actual bullet points—"

Inigo blanched. "No no no no no no no no no no no no no!" he exclaimed, waving his hands in front of him as if to say _No more! I yield!_ "All right, you win. I'll read it…"

I chuckled. _Game, set, match._


	7. A Minor Awakening

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which a nightmare gets Trey (again), and a holy queen gets involved.

#### "A Minor Awakening"

#### Trey

* * *

I woke with a jarring start. "AH!"

Gripping my sleeping bag, I realized after a few seconds that I wasn't holding my scythe. Indeed, looking around, I was back in the Zeros' tent, not outside in a burning city.

Relieved, I took a few moments to steady my breathing. "…just a nightmare," I muttered.

Looking next to me, Dreyza was still fast asleep in her sleeping bag, back turned to me. Vespyr and Kyoku were also still out like a pair of lights (I think that's how it goes?). Only Bluefield's sleeping bag was vacant.

 _Guess he couldn't sleep. Again,_ I thought.

I laid back down.

"…"

Then, realizing that I wasn't going back to sleep anytime soon, I got out of bed.

* * *

The sun wasn't due to rise for another hour.

I strode towards the campfire at the center of the site. Frederick was probably on that morning routine of his right then, as the campfire was burning brighter than before.

The wooden bench creaked mildly as I took a seat in front of the outdoor hearth. I didn't stare at the flame; merely the bottom "edge".

_Ugh…_

I looked down. Beside the bench was a metal poker. I took it up and prodded the fire half-heartedly.

"…You…?"

The voice alone made me jump.

Directly behind me was a blonde woman with the light-green robes of a sage, the head ornament of an Ylissean exalt, and a slightly dazed gaze.

"L-Lady Emmeryn…?" I stammered.

The former exalt stepped forward uncertainly. Immediately, I jumped out of my seat and walked over.

"Are you all right?" I asked.

Emmeryn looked at me, and I felt my heart clench slightly at the way she did so. "…I…yes…" she managed.

Despite that, I sighed. "Okay, then… Erm… Would you like to take a seat…?"

To my surprise, Emmeryn nodded slowly.

* * *

"You know, I didn't expect anyOne other than Frederick to be awake at this hour."

"Frederick…?"

"Yeah. He has a morning routine that no One else has."

"Morning…routine…?"

I nodded. "I don't remember what it was exactly, but I _do_ know that it involves push-ups, patrols, and the consumption of an egg."

"…Hmm… …Hmmnnnh…!"

I turned to find Emmeryn clutching her head. "Oh, dear," I muttered. I put my hand on her shoulder. "Are—Are you okay?"

"Mmm… Nnnhh… Ahhhh…"

It took a few seconds, but the pain eventually left Emmeryn's face.

"Lady Emmeryn…?" I asked hesitantly.

"…I…" she nodded slowly, smiling slightly. "…yes…thank you…"

I nodded, though I'm pretty sure I would have sweat-dropped here. "Good… That's good."

It was still strange that I was having a conversation with _Emmeryn_ of all people, especially two years after her "fall of faith". I'd barely talked to her before then. I know Bluefield and Dreyza had a bit of a "productive disagreement" with her—though Dreyza had to step out—but that was more or less it. Soon enough, Dreyza regretted it.

The rest of us Zeros regretted never talking to her.

And now look—here she is again, though definitely changed.

"…Is something…wrong…?"

Startled, I looked back up from the ground. "Hm?"

"You look…sad…"

Hearing that, I checked my face to see if I was crying again. I wasn't, but… "How could you tell?"

"…You seem like…you were…scared…before…"

The dots connected in my head. "Oh, that… Um…" I sighed, in mild defeat. "Truth is, I had a nightmare."

I briefly told her what it was about, as clearly as possible.

And she listened. I don't know how much she cared, but what mattered was that she _listened_.

When I was finished, my eyes were back on the bottom of the flames. We were both silent for a few moments.

Then she broke the silence.

"…don't…cry…" she managed, as she placed her hand on my shoulder.

I turned to look at her again. "Huh?"

"…I said…don't cry…"

I…I honestly _did not_ know how to respond to that. I still wasn't crying, but I must've looked close to doing so. But alongside the poignance, I felt…gratitude. Gratitude that some One was there, for a being that shouldn't exist here. Gratitude that she would lend her ear to the woes of such a being.

Then something hit me.

Is this what it felt like, for Chrom and Lissa to have Emmeryn as their caring big sister?

Probably. I still wasn't entirely sure.

But I was definitely sure of one thing, if nothing else: I was grateful that Emmeryn was here to hear me out.

I smiled slightly. "Thank you, Emmeryn. I won't cry."

_Much._


	8. "Awful Video Games" & "In The Razed Village"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which:
> 
>   * Kyoku plays an awful game, and Owain and Morgan are horrified…by how bad it is.
>   * Lucina and Dreyza observe an Umbral's work.
> 


**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Author's Note** : This is actually two one-shots, but I figured they were unconnected enough to warrant being put in the same page.
> 
> P.S.: Yes, "Awful Video Games" is based on **TotalBiscuit** 's famous critique of the infamous Day One: Garry's Incident.

#### "Awful Video Games"

#### [ N/A ]

* * *

"It's sad, really, 'cause what a great concept, eh? 'You crashed in a jungle. _Survive._ Figure everything out.' Sounds great, potentially. Sounds awesome." Kyoku sighed. "Buuut, the way that they've executed it is just horrendous. The over-focus on combat—and the fact that the combat is terrible—is he gonna pass through—he's gonna pass through, isn't he?"

As expected, the (badly animated) tribesman passed right through the plant.

Kyoku threw his hands up before pursuing— _eeeeever_ so quietly. "'course he is…" he grumbled as he got behind the tribesman. " _'Course_ he is. The ability for things to collide against each other would be _far_ too much to ask here."

Morgan stared in disbelief as Kyoku stealthily moved his character up to the tribesman's back, where he proceeded to slash at him five times.

As the tribesman recoiled three times from the attacks, Kyoku was starting to get very annoyed.

"Can I…?"

Then Kyoku stopped, his eyes widening in disbelief at the sight before him.

The tribesman—despite the sneak attack that _just happened to him_ —continued on its merry patrol.

" _WHAT?!_ " Kyoku exclaimed. " _Whaaat?!_ I hit him five times—er, three times in the back, and he—doesn't even know that I'm here!" He let out a small, constrained chuckle as he followed. " _Why_ is this game! I'm not even gonna ask _what_ is this game!"

Then Owain noticed a spear at the edge of the screen. "Hey, behind you!"

Then Kyoku and Morgan noticed the spear. As Kyoku glanced behind his character, the first tribesman suddenly turned around. A split second later, as Kyoku was turning away from the _second_ tribesman, the first charged at his character, killing him instantly.

"What?! _Now_ he realizes—?!" the Zero shouted.

The game only answered with another loading screen.

"Oh—screw _everything_ about this! I'm sorry; I _can't_ take another _minute_ of this _dreadful_ thing!"

* * *

#### Bluefield

* * *

I was walking by the tent when I heard Kyoku groan out loud.

"Auhhhhhh… I…It is— _What_ is it with last year and _awful_ video games?! We've had a game that's _way_ too _offensive_ to talk about, and we've had _this,_ and I _don't_ know which is worse!"

Video games? Oh, dear.

Raising an eyebrow (not that anyOne outside would really see), I poked my head through the tent flap. Kyoku had brought along his laptop computer, on which he was playing what looked like a first-person game. Owain and Morgan were sitting on either side of of him, watching…I wouldn't say "over his shoulders", but they definitely had room to watch him _and_ what he was playing.

As I walked in, Morgan noticed me and quickly put an index finger to her lips. A clear message: don't interrupt.

I nodded, as Kyoku, not acknowledging me, continued to rant.

"I—Maybe I'm going to go as far as to say that this is actually worse—"

Doubt it, if he's saying that one of the worst games on planet Earth isn't as bad as this.

"—but I think _maybe,_ it just gets away with it…Just _maybe!_ —on the subject…and the…no, subject _matter,_ more to the point. It—It manages to say, ' _Hey!_ I'm a little bit interesting because I'm a game that focuses on the concept of survival, and there's not a lot of those, so you should probably check me out!'"

At this point, Kyoku had left the village (which was suspiciously full of dead tribespeople), and had just gotten around a massive rock. On the other side, a hostile tribesman—probably a sentry?—was standing there, back turned towards the player.

What's ridiculous is the fact that this tribesman was standing on nothing, _three freaking feet in the air._

Kyoku had noticed this, too. I could _barely_ hear him chuckle as he approached, crouched, wooden machete thing out and ready.

"Behold!" Kyoku declared with sarcastic reverence. "The Floating Aborigine Tribesman Thingy!" As if in response, the sentry jumped down without any warning and turned to face the player character. "And his—"

The sentry did absolutely nothing. He just stood there, facing Kyoku's character as though he didn't exist.

Kyoku's eyes widened. There was a "No way. No _freaking_ way." look in his eyes.

Three seconds later, Kyoku burst out laughing, covering his mouth as he rocked in his seat. "Ohhhhh, noo…!" he managed to utter. "…ohhh, no…"

Silence as Kyoku tried to compose himself.

Morgan looked at me, incredulous.

I mouthed out: _I'll explain later._

Finally, Kyoku pulled his hands from over his mouth. The expression on his face was indescribable. (Well, maybe it is, but I don't know the words for it.)

"…This is a _full_ release…!" he said. "This is a _full_ release! It is _not_ an early look into a product in the making! This is _not_ a test for consumer feedback, guys! Seriously, I am _not_ lying to you! And this is after about _three_ patches— _three_ chances to fix over half of the problems here. But no—there's just _no_ way around it: This game is a _freaking_ di- _sas_ -ter!"

Pause. Kyoku draws breath again.

"It is a _wasted_ concept by a group of people that evidently does _not_ have the talent necessary to create something of this complexity, and good _heavens,_ did they screw it up! This is _last_ year's garbage game of the year! And more to the freaking point—"

Kyoku scrolled through his character's weapons until he found some weird, glowing, ancient arm-mounted device.

"—it's even got last _last_ year's garbage-game-of-the-year's _armgun!_ It's… …gods! It is…just… _horrendously bad!_ "

It was simply staggering, all right. And luckily, most of the gaming community back home knew that by now.

Kyoku threw up his hands before gesturing towards the tribesman sentry—who was _still standing there._ What's more, there was also a monkey that was doing absolutely nothing except run towards the player, run back into the grass, and repeat. Over and over.

"I have a feeling that this guys doesn't know that I'm here—because I'm in _stealth_ mode, I assume!" Kyoku exclaimed. "It doesn't matter that I'm in his field of vision. Because I'm crouching, I'm also in stealth mode. This monkey is running backwards and forwards! This tribesman right here—"

And Kyoku switched back to the wooden weapon and flailed it, in a bid to get the other guy's attention. **_"…HI."_**

Aaaaaaaand… Nothing.

Owain was so taken aback by this at this point that he was leaning back, amazed by this awful video game.

"Lemme guess: if I stand up, he's gonna see me immediately?"

Kyoku stood his character up. The tribesman immediately charged and started flailing at him.

"Of course."

There was a resignation in Kyoku's voice as he let the tribesman kill the character, resulting in a (stupid) death animation.

Insert (another) loading screen.

* * *

#### Morgan

* * *

"…Oh, gods, I wanna find the people responsible for creating this thing and just…"

The game finally "reloaded", and we were welcomed back to the village with a bunch of people screaming their death throes (again).

"…stick them in a flying machine," he continued, "force them to crash-land in a jungle, and fight for survival against badly-animated islanders—it spawned me in the…"

As Kyoku muttered a bunch of unintelligible words, Mister Bluefield finally walked up to him and tapped his shoulder. "You, uh, quite done with these bad games today?" he inquired.

Kyoku jumped, turned to stare up at his mentor. "Wha—oh, Bluefield."

"Hey, don't worry—you're not in _that_ much trouble," he said. But then he frowned. "Just kinda sucks that _this_ particular title was how you introduced them to video games."

"Oh… Well, that's not _entirely_ why I did this."

Mister Blu raised an eyebrow. "Really?"

"Yeah." Kyoku shut the laptop closed before turning back to face Mister Blu. "I wanted to show Owain here how one of my favorite games critics reacted to this very game."

Owain nodded. "Mm-hmm. Plus, I'd like to add a character of such a cynical foreigner to my repertoire."

"I…see." Blu then turned to me. "So, Morgan—what about you?"

"Huh? Oh—well, I was passing by when I heard Kyoku yell, _'What the hell killed me?!'_ I was alarmed, so I charged in. But, instead of Kyoku laying on the ground with an assassin nearby, I found Kyoku _and_ Owain—both alive and well—playing this, er, 'game'." I shrugged. "Sheesh, I don't think I can recall ever seeing _anything_ with _that_ many problems."

"Oh-ho—trust me, Morgan," Kyoku said, chuckling(?). "This is hardly the _worst_ video game from Bluefield's world—and it's certainly nowhere _near_ the quality of a _good_ game."

"Ugh," Bluefield uttered as he finally sat down with us. "And the best part of it all? Not only is _that very game_ bad, the game's _makers_ are bad."

I looked at him, skeptical. "Really? How much worse can they be?"

"No, not _can_ , Morgan," Bluefield corrected, face grim and—to some degree—angry. " _Could._ "

Owain looked _very_ interested in this, as well. "A group who acted in dastardly, underhanded ways? Surely this would be a story that can live in infamy."

"Just make sure to keep your sword hand in check, Owain," Bluefield advised, a grim look on his face. "The 'villains' of this story have already been— _metaphorically_ —killed in the crib, courtesy of their own actions. Besides, I doubt any of them have fought in a war before, let alone one with swords."

With that, Bluefield turned to his mentee. "Kyoku, do you still have that little history folder on there?"

"'Course I do. Why?"

"Simple: it's storytime."

* * *

**_6c 6f 61 64 69 6e 67 2e 2e 2e 20 64 6f 6e 65_**

* * *

#### "In The Razed Village"

#### Dreyza

* * *

"This…This _can't_ be the work of Risen," Lucina muttered as she carefully stepped over stray debris.

I looked around. "Hmm…ah, I think we've got a possible culprit," I said, pointing to one of the brick-and-mortar buildings. The window was smashed inward, but it was the black ooze-like stuff dripping from the windowsill that told the story best.

We slowly approached the damage, careful not to trip over anything—or nothing (sorry, Sumia).

Fishing out a flashlight from my pack, I shined it over some of the residual dark, murky ooze. It started screeching in pain as the light burned it away, sparks flying. But I didn't stop, and in a flash of brightness, the ooze burned up, leaving nothing behind.

Lucina watched all of this with a subdued horror. "But…why are _they_ here?" she asked as I put my light back. "I thought they would be focusing on _our_ world."

"Good question," I replied, turning to her. "But, one thing I've learned from fighting these things off? They _just don't care_ what they do. Most Umbrals tend to simply act without thinking at all. Remember Carrion Isle? The Mila Tree? The Dragon's Table? Prime examples of that mindless predatory behavior. Well—" I shrugged. "Not that the Luminos won't behave that way, either, but…"

Lucina shook her head. "I wish I could understand why they would act the way they do, as you do."

"Actually, I think we all do—both Ones _and_ Zeros. Somewhere deep down, on a level we can't put into words. After all, even the brightest of hearts have their own shadows."

"I…see."

"But, also at that level are our bonds—the kind that tie us all together. Right?"

Lucina looked up at me, smiling a little. "Yes… Just as [REDACTED] said."

I nodded, smiling as well— _just_ as a roar and a yell rang out.

**_GRRAARGH!_ **

"Dammit—CONTACT!"

Surprised, we both turned at Ves's call-out. Gunshots, Thunder spells, and yelling (with mild cursing) rang against the buildings down the road, coming from off to the side.

"That's near the village gates," I realized aloud.

Lucina stepped beside me. "Well, why don't we lend our friends a hand?"

Our friends.

I smiled at that. "Yeah. Let's go."

And with that, we both drew iron—her from her hip, me from my chest—and ran full speed down the road.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Author's Note** : If anyone wants a standalone fic based on "In The Razed Village", please let me know!


	9. The Worth of One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Kyoku hints as the worth of people and nobodies with someone who - hopefully - never learns it firsthand.

#### "The Worth of One" (previously titled "Prim and Proper, My Shoe")

#### Kyoku

* * *

"…mmmnnnnnhhhh…"

"Mm? Ah, so the lady awakens."

Almost bleary-eyed, Maribelle looked up at me from the bed. "…What…oh, it's you."

"Yeah," I replied. Then I looked up. " _Ah_ —hey, _don't_ strain your arm," I said quickly. The noblewoman had tried to sit up, but winced as the temporary bandages on her right arm—which was already red with blood—spread with more red.

Thankfully, Maribelle wisely chose to lay back down. "So, you're to be my doctor today?" she asked, her haughtiness _mildly_ apparent.

"In a sense, yes," I replied as I pulled out the first-aid kit for humans. "Okay, I'm gonna replace those bandages, _and_ make sure that the wound is _properly_ disinfected. That means you'll need to hold still for a minute or two."

"And how do you plan to do that, exactly?" she asked as I prepared two pieces of gauze—one piece long, one piece square.

"With gauze, special alcohol, and some conversation." Using a pair of scissors, I clipped off the temporary bandages. "Last part might help distract you from the pain. So, how long _do_ you think you've been out?"

"Hm?"

"As in, how long do you think you've been unconscious?"

"Ah… About an hour?"

"I see." I was bringing the short gauze—which had wound-disinfecting alcohol—to the arm cuts. "Well, you've actually been out for about 33 minutes. So, a _little_ over half an hour."

Maribelle smirked. "You're a rather punctual sort, aren't you? _Ah—_ " She winced as I cleaned off the wounds off of the exposed skin.

"I _wish_ I was," I replied, setting the dirtied cloth aside and taking the long strip of gauze in hand. "Then again, what were you expecting from a Zero? A guy who is far, _far_ less than a 'lowborn'?"

I think that caught her off-guard—not sure. "Hmm… _Touché_ ," the noblewoman responded as I started wrapping the gauze over her arm wounds. "You and your lot—mentor included—have taken my expectations and completely destroyed them…or otherwise failed to."

"Yeah. I don't think we even _try_ to, though. It's not a priority."

"I see. Come to think of it, you are the second most self-deprecating Zero I've had the…honor of encountering."

I furrowed my brow at that. "Um, thanks…?"

Maribelle rolled her eyes. "Oh, don't treat it as an insult! Or a compliment, for that matter! It's actually something I find very concerning!"

I stared at her as though a jellyfish had grown out of her head just then. The gauze in my hands remained taught 'round her arm, yet to be tied. "Really?"

"Of course! How is it that you can carry yourself through battle without dignity? Do you really have such a profound sense of worthlessness?"

"Worthless…" I let that hang in the air as I quickly tied the bandages. "Yeah, I think that sums up what we Zeros are."

I don't think she expected that answer, either. "Excuse me?"

"Nothing." Finishing, I stood up. "There. Just let it sit for a few hours, and you'll be fine."

"Oh, erm… Thank you."

Nodding, I made for the tent entrance. Just before exiting, I turned back to look at her. "Oh, and one other thing…"

"Hm?"

"Save your worries for people who matter, okay? Like Lissa. Dreyza told me she's been crying a good long while."

With that, I left the room.

* * *

"I think that caught her off-guard—not sure." - _Pretty_ sure you did, Kyoku. —Burna


	10. Let's Play some Nidhogg! (Part 1)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Vespyr and Morgan play a fencing game that may ~~or may not~~ have a giant snake in it. (Part 1 of 2)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Author's Note** : Based on TotalBiscuit's first livestream of _Nidhogg_.
> 
>  **EDIT (12/17/2016)** : Edited from original post.

#### "Let's Play some Nidhogg!" (Part 1)

#### Vespyr

* * *

"All right—to the title screen," I said, as the Nidhogg logo appeared on the LCD. "Nidhogg! Came out on January 13th, of the origin year 2014. It's been in development for 5,000 years."

"5,000?" asked Morgan.

"5,000 years." I winked.

"Huh." I think she got it.

"Huge amounts of years. It's been delayed for four thousand, nine hundred and ninety-nine of those years"—wink again—"but by now, it is already available for us to play. Alright…"

 _Multiplayer_ > _Offline_ > _Versus_ > _Castle_

"We shall be playing some local one-versus-one, and we're getting right into it now."

Two rapier-wielders appeared—Orange on the right, Yellow on the left. The massive chandelier swung rhythmically above us.

Immediately, Yellow rushed towards me. "Oh, _I'm_ Yellow," Morgan realized. "So then—"

_Stab._

"—ah!"

As Yellow dropped dead, an orange "GO" arrow appeared—gotta go left. "I'm gonna stab you, if you don't mind," I said as I ran.

"Wait—you already did!" Yellow reappeared—sword at the ready.

I jumped over her, onto the grey platform behind her. "Then I'm just gonna leave!"

"No!" She chased after me.

"See ya!"

"No!"

"I'm g—" _Stab._ "NO!"

Yellow arrow. "Ha-ha- _haah!_ " Morgan declared in triumph.

"Auh, dammit." I chased after her, looking for an opening.

"I don't know what I'm doing! I'm just—pressing these keys! It's awesome! I feel so empowered—" Just as she said that, Yellow abruptly threw the rapier right at Orange.

I wasn't ready. "Agh!"

" _Yes!_ " And with that, she ran right, jumped.

" _Sonuvagun._ " Orange reappeared. "No you don't!"

"No—" Yellow jumped again, landed on my sword. "Aw!"

Orange arrow. I ran left, full speed, jumped over another Yellow. "So your objective in this game is to get to your end of the course. It's similar to tug-of-war. Once I kill the enemy player, I can head to my end of the course, which is exactly what I'm gonna attempt to do!"

" _Nooooo!_ " As I ran through a pair of doors, Morgan threw her sword again—and it crashed into a door. "What?! I just threw it at a—"

"Ha!" Next screen: bridge and two pits. " _Nah_ -ni- _nah_ -ni- _nah!_ "

"Ugh!" Her frustration was apparent.

"Relax! Every time you re-spawn into the game, you get a sword. It's fine."

"Oh, okay." Yellow had already reappeared, proving my point.

"Right. So, Nidhogg is a fencing game in which you _die_ instantly."

And she had. "Awww…" she moaned as Yellow became a yellow puddle of yellow blood.

As I jumped over the pits, Yellow reappeared again.

 _Stab._ And Yellow shot _straight_ down the hole.

"What—?!"

"Huh?"

I looked at her. She looked at me. Then we laughed. "I don't even know what in the world happened there!" chuckled the tactician.

"Well, it _is_ a fencing game in which you _die_ instantly. There we go."

"Oh my gods! You keep winning!" Final screen: trippy background. "You've got the unfair advantage! You've been playing this too long!"

"What? Oh, give me a break! I only just got this game _twenty minutes_ ago."

"Really?" Yellow crouched.

"Yeah, so—get—g— _no!_ " I yelled as Yellow made like a cockroach and scampered around my feet, jumping and giggling. "Wh-What the sh—" I jumped away. More giggling. Yellow got to her feet, ran at me.

"I will—"

 _Stab._ "A-ha!" I declared.

"Oh, no!" Morgan almost threw her hands up. "I thought I could crawl my way to victory!"

"Doubt it." Yellow reappeared. " _En garde._ Okay, so you can parry your opponent's attacks. First, each player can do low attacks, medium attacks, and high attacks. To do this, you press up-down-NO!"

That last part was because Morgan had thrown her sword—and I ducked it. "Awwww…"

I stood Orange back up. "See, _now_ you gotta punch me. Good luck with that."

Then she did something I hadn't expected her to do: jump over the gap, kick me back. "Ha!"

"AH! What the hell?! No!" I ran. "Where's your sword?!"

"Stole your sword!"

"Then I'll steal yours!"

We started jumping around like fools, trying to nab each other in the air.

"As I was saying," I started, "you can parry—"

"Argh!"

That part was because Yellow had thrown their sword in midair, and I was safely a fair distance below it, so it sailed overhead.

"Well, that wasn't a very good idea, was it?" I started running left again.

"I'm still learning how this works! It's not like those _Mario_ games." Morgan had Yellow chase me again.

"Yeah, it's not at all. Nothing to save and no One to rescue, really." Then Yellow jumped, dive-kicked—I found myself sprawled on the floor. "No! Sod[ding]—"

Yellow knelt down— _Snap!_ —and Orange became an orange puddle of orange blood.

"Oh!" Morgan was surprised.

" _What_ the _freak?!_ I think you just snapped my guy's neck," I laughed.

"Ew!"

"Hey, at least it's all in good fun. War doesn't give you this much leeway."

"Guess so." More jumping ensued.

"Okay." Dodge. "No!"

"Yes!" Throw. "Oh, no!"

"Where the hell did you…okay, then: fisticuffs! Or, well…" I pointed—there was still a yellow "GO" pointing right. "You realize you can just _run,_ right?"

"Oh, right." And she did.

"Yeah, and you should." Bridge and pits. "But _then I get a sword!_ A-ha! _A-ha!_ Ah—"

_Stab._

"Aw," Morgan moaned.

"So, aside from jumping and rolling, you can jump off walls and perform divekicks." Yellow was already back. "You clearly know how to do the divekick—" Morgan suddenly kicks me, knocking my sword away. "Ouh—!"

Insert us jumping around the bridge as I try to grab my sword, with me making random noises.

Last few syllables: "Jus—Ge—No—"

_Stab._

"A-ha!" Then Orange falls over, dead. "Ah—n'awwww!"

Morgan laughed as she ran through the doors.

Orange reappeared. "Guess I failed at the martial arts bullcrap." _Stab._ "Yes!"

"Aw!"

" _There_ we go. Jumped _right_ into that one." I ran.

"Is that our blood being spilled?"

"Oh yeah, our blood's all over the place. It's horrible." _Stab._ " _OH!_ how the hell?!"

Morgan laughed as she ran through the doors.

I stabbed. "Bollards!" I yelled.

"Agh!"

"Okay!"

"I'm not very good at this tug-of-war thing!"

"Y'know, now that you mention it, it's more like ' _shove_ -of-war'. Alright, final screen!"

(I'm surprised that the trippy background isn't as distracting as I'd once feared.)

Yellow charged me. I fell back, planning on jumping over her.

I tried.

_Stab._

She killed my guy on landing.

"D'augh," I groaned.

Morgan laughed as she ran back into the bridge-and-pits section.

"We should get Owain and the others to play this, too," I said.

"I dunno. Not sure how mom would take this."

"Yeah, that's true. It's pretty much a bloodsport game. Well—pretty sure she's _been_ in one, though. Arena Ferox." _Stab._ "OH! Come on! Rolling under my stab attack!"

Yellow jumped over the pits as I appeared on the platform.

"A-ha!" I dive-kicked into Yellow, sword falling to the floor. "Midair!"

"Ah!"

More dive-kicking. "A-ha! A-ha! A-ha—!"

"Aaaah—!"

And somehow, we both jumped past each other…and _straight_ down the two pits.

" _Oooooh—!_ " I exclaimed.

"AHHH!" Morgan cried out. "I jumped _into_ the hole! Why?!"

"Well, we all died," I muttered. Orange and Yellow re-spawned; same positions, no arrows. "Here you go, have a sword." Missed the throw. " _Aaannd,_ have another sword. No—no—NO!"

Yellow "GO" arrow. Morgan laughed as she stopped below the platform I reappeared on. Baiting me. Taunting me.

"Come down here, Miss Vespyr," the tactician giggled. "Hm-hm, get down here…"

"Okay. That's reasonable." Yeah, right. So naturally, I jump down—promptly get kicked to the ground—"Oh, _bollards!_ "—and Yellow runs off to the chandelier room.

"Nah-ni-naaah!"

"No, _screw_ you!"

Yellow ran through the two doors, only to be met with the end of my sword.

"Stab!"

"Auh!"

"Okay, let us—"

Then she stabbed me in what I'm pretty sure is the delicate area.

"—honorably duel…" I finished as I prepared to do so.

Then I threw my sword.

_Whoops._

"Agh, where'd my sword go?" Then the screen moved right, and Orange reappeared. "Oh, right. Nevermind." Yellow "GO"—pretty hard to miss.

Kick. "Nah-ni-nah."

"Nope!" Kick back.

"Ah!" Morgan exclaimed.

"Nope nope nope—" _Stab._

"Ah-ahhhh!"

"Not happening!"

"This feels frustrating!"

"Sorry! Not happening!" _Stab._ "More stabbing!" I jumped, ran, threw another sword. "A-ha! Didn't see that coming, did you? Didn't think so!"

"Is this actually commentary over a video game? It feels more like us just reacting to stuff."

"That's—" Bridge and pits. "Welcome to Markiplier's entire library."

Morgan giggled at that.

"Okay…" I threw my sword. "A-ha!"

This time, Morgan saw it coming, ducked, laughed.

"Th-That was pretty _dumb_ ," I said, "all things considered—A-HA! Punch you in the face!"

That part was because Yellow had jumped over the pit to try and reach me, but I beat her in a good ol' punch-out.

"Aw…"

"Alright. _Stab!_ " Run run run. "Aaaaand _stab!_ "

"No! What?!" Morgan laughed. (Final screen for me.) "I'm the worst point guard in the world!"

 _Snap!_ Apparently, she's better at strangling the opponent.

"Have you ever actually done any fencing at all?" I asked, rubbing my nose as Yellow ran.

"I don't think so." Bridge and pits.

"No, I never did, either."

"Okay."

"Same with my brother, 'pparently. You might think everyone of 'English decent' or whatever-the-hell has a fencing teacher? They don't, as it turns out. So I don't know too much about the sport, myself."

_Stab!_

"Ha!"

Together: "Right in the face!"

"Aw, I need to improve at this!" Morgan said.

Final screen—and I remembered—"Oh yeah, I never actually got into parrying, did I?"

"No."

"I got distracted. So, if you and your opponent attack on the same stance—you attack high, for instance—I can block your attack because I'm also in a high stance. I can also use this to block throwing attacks. But, if I change my stance while you're attacking me—"

Right as I said that, another potential distraction came up: Yellow walked straight into my sword. Skewered. And the figure didn't move, despite all the blood spewing out.

Together, as I inched Orange forward, driving the blade in: "Auhh! Auhh! _Auhh! Auhh!_ "

Yellow finally fell, and I ran, jumped the gap.

We both laughed. "Gratuitous!" Morgan chuckled.

 _Stab._ "As I was saying, if I change my stance while being attacked, I can knock your sword out of your hand without having to divekick."

One last _Stab._

I ran—"Alright. Let's go, let's go, _let's go!_ "—and I reached the end screen. The peanut gallery in the background gave a standing ovation as I jumped down and ran.

"Yay!" I cheered.

"Nooo!" Morgan cried out. "No!"

"Now I will be eaten by a giant snake!" As I said that, I ran up the slope going left—and promptly got eaten by a giant pink snake.

"No—" Morgan stopped, stunned. " _ **What?!**_ Okay, wait a minute— _that's_ what you get for _winning?!_ "

"Yes, you are eaten by Nidhogg, the giant snake."

"What kind of bloodsport game _is_ this?"

"Well, it's the one where you get eaten by Nidhogg, the giant snake."

"But…"

"Let's do another level." I left the orange _Winner_ screen and returned to the map select screen.

"Oh, there's another level?"

"Yeah, there's like four different levels. Come on. Let's see what you've learned from your first defeat."


	11. Disability & Royalty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Alexis Welman comes across a sparring match between Princess Lucina and Dreyza, and strikes up a conversation with Princess Cynthia.
> 
>  **EDIT (12/17/2016)** : Edited from original post.

#### "Disability & Royalty"

#### Alexis Welman

* * *

"Excuse me, but, who's winning?" I asked as I rolled up beside the young knight.

She wasn't surprised by me suddenly asking from behind, mind you—my wheelchair gave enough heads-up amid the clashing of wooden swords. But she _did_ stare at my legs for a second or two.

"Uh—Oh, well," she said, shaking off her surprise as she turn to watch the match. "They're actually pretty evenly matched."

I turned to face the small clearing as well. "Ah, interesting."

Dreyza was blocking sword strikes from another blue-haired woman. Unlike the lance-wielder to my right, this person was dressed in what I would assume to be the blue clothing of a royal (though, I'm not entirely certain of that). Her longer-than-chin hair flowed as she struck, grunting and yelling. As Dreyza struck, forced her back, I caught a glimpse of a symbol in the woman's left eye, one that matched the shape on her cape:

My guess? I was watching Princess Lucina of Ylisse in a sparring match with Dreyza.

"Come on, Lucina!" the Zero called, her voice somehow still strong. "Just hit me!"

Lucina grit her teeth, and brought her sword forward again. "Your blocking makes that difficult!" she snapped.

"Well, don't expect me to stop, Princess! Now come on! _Raah!_ "

"Eiy _yah!_ "

I _hmm_ -ed. "They're lucky they can do that."

Beside me, the knight turned her gaze from the sparring women to look at me. "Do what?"

"Spar. I'm not one for fighting, myself, but sometimes, I still wish I knew how it feels to face your opponent in a physical encounter." I shrugged, looking down at my missing left lower leg and missing right foot. "Ah, well… Still no point crying over spilled milk." Then I raised my hand to the knight in a handshake. "My name's Alexis Welman, by the way."

"O-Oh, okay." She grasped my hand—shook firmly. "Princess Cynthia of Ylisse, at your service!"

My eyebrows rose in mild surprise. "Ah, let me guess: you're a Shepherd? Almost everyone I've met here is."

"That's right!" Cynthia replied, grinning. "Protect the innocent folk, defeat the bad guys! That's us!"

"W-Well, I'm sure that's true, but it also not what I meant."

"Oh, really?" She frowned. "Well, what _did_ you mean?"

"Well, Mister Bluefield was kind enough to allow me to visit other worlds some time ago. In two of the worlds I visited, I met two different princesses. They weren't quite like the kind one would find in fairytales, however; one was a leader in a rebellion against a usurper, while another was essentially part of a strike force against hostile invaders. From the few times I saw them, they never stood on the sidelines; they'd always jump into the fray with their comrades. In a way, you and your sister remind me of them."

"Really? That's awesome! Were they legends?"

I laughed. "I'm sure that's what they became. I couldn't stick around to find out. Doubly so, since…" I looked down at my missing limbs again. "…well, I can't exactly _run_ for my life, now, can I?"

"Hey, no problem!" Cynthia grinned. "If trouble comes and tries to get you, I'll come out on my trusty steed, pick you up, and carry you to safety!"

I'll admit—her spirit got to me a little. "That's _very_ kind of you, Princess."

"Waah—!"

_"WHOA!"_

Tha- _Thud!_

Those last three lines of cacophony caused us to turn toward the clearing. Dreyza had apparently tried running up a wall and kicking off, using the momentum in a downward strike. Lucina blocked the attack, but the force of the strike caused their blades to slip along the edge. Lucina was now on her back, why Dreyza was above the princess's head, (painfully) standing on her _own_ head.

I winced.

"Ow…" groaned the Zero.

"Oof…" breathed Lucina.

"Lucy!" Worried about her sister (understandably so), Cynthia raced forward—"Wah—!"—only to trip face-first into the dirt.

Wincing again and looking away briefly, I rolled my way over to her. "You, my friend," I said as I reached my hand out to her, "are lucky to be able to fall over and get back up."

* * *

"… But she _did_ stare at my legs…" - or lack thereof —Alexis


	12. Question (Part 1)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which another alternate person confronts Dreyza. (Part 1 of 2)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Author's Note** : Special thanks to **smileplease91** of [ A Day in the Life](https://www.fanfiction.net/s/10670475/1/A-Day-in-the-Life) fame for this idea and the one coming after! I owe you one! :D
> 
>  **EDIT (12/17/2016)** : Edited from original post.

#### "Question" (Part 1)

#### [ Date Redacted ], [ "a.2012" ] - [ Time Redacted ]

#### 017-R "Dreyza"

#### Shepherds + Zeros ("Ashen Wolves")

#### [ Location Redacted ], "Doomed Ylisse"

* * *

"AAAAAAHHHH!"

Cutting Risen left and right is one thing. Cutting them down while protecting a pair of people who used environment manipulation tactics, to sacrifice themselves for their friends?

At least I wasn't doing this alone.

But the fact that these things were stronger than the usual variety back in the original Ylisse wasn't helping.

As I beheaded yet another undead Valkyrie, I heard someOne's scream.

_Female._

_Three o'clock._

_Getting closer at faster-than-normal speeds._

_Reptilian wings._

_And the ear-splitting cry of a wyvern—a cry that manages to outdo Minerva's._

That wasn't someOne screaming. That was someOne letting out a battle cry.

I managed to process all of this as I turned to my right. A Wyvern Lord and her mount barreled out of the fog—and straight at me.

"Aw, sh—"

I never finished that curse.

The wyvern smashed its head into my torso as it flew, trying to gnaw at what it perceived to be tender human meat.

"OW OW AGH DAMMIT!" I screamed. Barely pulling out my sword, I grit my teeth as I rammed it through the creature's hateful eyes, parallel to my stomach.

**_"ROA— …hahhh…"_ **

Judging from the quiet release of breath at the reaction stop time, I must've gotten its brain.

I fell out of its jaws and onto the muddy ground as the Wyvern Lord tumbled over me, the steed limply crashing, splashing up liquid dirt. "Ahh!"

_Thud!_

Steel and shouting continued to ring out around me.

I struggled to my feet, shaking the spots out of my head. "Ungh…"

"Grr…" _Clink!_ "For Lord Grima!"

Quickly, I looked up to find the Wyvern Lord, on her feet, her battle ax a dull glint approaching me through the fog.

 _Crap,_ I thought.

Instinctively, I swung my sword overhead.

_CLANG!_

"ARGH!"

It took me a second to realize that that wasn't me screaming.

And that voice—

I looked at my opponent, fog grazing against my cheek. "What the hell?"

Her stature looked familiar. As in, even if she wasn't suffering from a headache that shouldn't've been caused by hitting her _weapon,_ I would have recognized her. Even without that wyvern helmet obscuring her face, I would have recognized her.

For the same reason I recognized Owain and the other three of this world from far away.

My free hand shaking, I reached up to my ear.

_Click._

"Bluefield?" I asked.

"Dreyza?!" Blu's voice sounded pressed for time. "What's wrong? Why're you—?"

 _Better make it quick._ I opened my mouth again.

"…Wh-Where's Morgan?"

I felt my heart go _[REDACTED], [REDACTED]…_

Silence. Then Bluefield spoke up.

"Right next to me. Dreyza, what the hell's going on?"

_No._

_Oh, no._

_No, no, no._

"…Get _him_ over here," I croaked.

"What…wait. Dreyza, don't tell me you're fighting—"

"Jus' _shut up,_ " I snapped, "and get [REDACTED] over here! Right now! _Please!_ "

"R-Roger that! Just—don't kill whoever that is yet, alright?"

"Copy," I said grimly, still shaken. "I'll hold back on her. Ashen 1-7 out."

_Click._

As I tightened my grip around my katana, the Wyvern Lord shook her head free of whatever was plaguing her then. How no One, Risen or otherwise, had noticed us—how they didn't take the chance to strike either of us down—I may never know. But I'm somewhat glad that the Shepherds hadn't intervened.

Glad…and a bit angry.

The mountless Wyvern Lord finally spoke, in an unmistakably human voice—a _living_ female, not a Risen. "I know not the sorcery you wield, _witch,_ " she snapped at me, vehement, "but know this: _nothing_ you do to me—no attempt to torture me—will make me betray my lord. You will know what it means to defy Lord Grima!"

_Oh, dammit, kid, don't make this any harder._

I took a low stance—ready to be quick, to toy with her. "I already know 'what it means'," I replied. "And that's _not_ going to stop me. _Or_ my allies. Now, if you're gonna get in their way? Then prepare to suffer." I raised my sword. " _RAAAAAGH!_ "

The swords continued to clash around us.

* * *

####  **_To Be Continued_**


	13. Not a Very Bright Individual(?) (Part 1)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Inigo did not know what he was in for when he spoke to Bluefield about this. But surprisingly, the Zero didn't act out of overprotectiveness. (Part 1 of 2)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Author's Note** : Special thanks to **smileplease91** of [ A Day in the Life](https://www.fanfiction.net/s/10670475/1/A-Day-in-the-Life) fame for this idea and the one before! Maybe I owe you _two!_ :D
> 
>  **EDIT (12/17/2016)** : Edited from original post.

#### "Not a Very Bright Individual(?)" (Part 1)

#### Bluefield

* * *

"Well," came that accent. "I've finally found the so-called Mentor."

I looked from my iPod touch, over to my right. "Mm?"

Inigo—that flirting "future kid" whom the Shepherds ran into recently—was standing above me. His shoulder armor was still slightly scratched from yesterday, but I didn't think he cared about that (much). With the clouds blocking the sun, I could easily see his smiling face above me.

Yeesh.

"Hey," I said.

Then I went back to my iPod.

[And So We Fight](https://www.fanfiction.net/s/10750990/1/And-So-We-Fight)  
_by  
The Fighting Irishman_

"Erm…sir?"

"Hmm?"

"What are you doing with that metal plate that currently has your attention?"

…whoa, wait—metal _plate?_

That's a somewhat new one.

I gave him a _What-the-freak?_ look. "What? Um… Well, I'm reading something."

"Really? That object holds books?"

"Yes, along with music, pictures, motion pictures with sound, and a dozen other things that probably have nothing to do with _you being here._ "

…I might've come of as rather harsh. Again.

Inigo's face fell somewhat. "Ouch. Are you like this with your mentees, as well?"

"Not unless they're bugging the _hell_ out of me," I said as I got to my feet, pocketing my iPod. "That's why I'm glad they don't do it _too_ often."

After brushing off my grey jacket and jeans of any stray rock bits, I sized Inigo up. "So you're the infamous Blush Boy, huh? Taller than I'd expected."

At that, Inigo paled a bit. "I—Wha—Who came up with that foolish and belittling name?! I'll have you know: I am a _man_ of _passion!_ "

I laughed at the start of that, but the _ending_ made me stop. "Yeesh…" I sighed, rubbing my forehead. I was starting to remember why I hadn't bothered with _that_ kind of thing at all… "Sure, you are. And relax: I just made that dumb name up. No Valmese civvies've been spreading any rumors about you with the words 'Blush Boy' anywhere near it. _Relax._ Although," I added, "the rumors _do_ say you tend to blush when people stare at you…"

_Staaaaare…_

"Wh-What is it? I don't have anything on my face, do I?!" Inigo then proceeded to check his reddening face.

Instead of making another remark at his expense, I let up. "It's okay, dude. Just messing with you."

"Really? Oh, thank gods…"

"Yeah. So, why _are_ you here?"

"Oh! Well, you see, Lady Dreyza—"

"My sister's a Lady, now?" A brief memory of Yuna flashed across my mind.

"Is…that a problem?"

I shook my head. "No, go on."

"…Well, she told me that in order to get a date with her, I have to win a duel with her brother and mentor. Which is you, correct?"

I shifted uncomfortably. "Um, yeah, but—" Then a thought crossed my mind.

 _She never told him about_ it, _huh?_

"Hmm… How about this?" I proposed. "If you beat me, you can brag about it to Dreyza—or to whatever female you wish to chase next. But if _I_ beat you, we will have a serious discussion. Understood?"

Caught off-guard, Inigo faltered. "Um, wait—this isn't—"

"I'll take that as a Yes."

And with that, I drew iron from my chest.

I stopped smiling. "Come at me!"

* * *

####  **_To Be Continued_**


	14. On Two Pasts and an Apple

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the Voice of Naga shares a candied apple with Dreyza.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **EDIT (12/17/2016)** : Edited from original post.

#### "On Two Pasts and an Apple"

#### Dreyza

* * *

"What in the world is _that?_ " I asked.

Tiki turned, munching the fried fruit-like thing in her hand. " _Mmm?_ "

I decided to repeat myself, this time pointing to her snack. "Oh, sorry. I said, what in the world is _that?_ "

Tiki swallowed, wincing only slightly. "Oh, this?" She held up the buttered arch of fried fruit. "It's a piece of fried apple. The vendor over at the square was kind enough to give me some."

 _Oh, man…_ I thought as I gazed upon this still-steaming delicacy-on-a-stick. _That looks pretty good…_

In fact, I almost didn't here my own stomach go _Grrrrrwwwwl!_

Tiki laughed lightly. "Here, would you like one?" she asked, holding out the small basket in her other hand.

Blushing, I nodded. "Thanks." Taking a skewered apple slice, I bit in—and almost instantly recoiled. "Ah! Hot!"

"You have to blow on it first, Dreyza."

"O-Oh, okay…" _Hufffff… Hufffff… Crunch!_ "…Mmm!"

Aside of the apple (duh), fried bits, and butter that flowed over my tongue and down my throat, there was this strange new taste—something that, according to Vaire, comes from the bark of a certain tree…

I swallowed. "Am I tasting _cinnamon_ in there?"

Tiki nodded. "A fitting spice for this treat, is it not?" the manakete asked.

"Mmm… Maybe I'll have one more," I decided. "…Once I finish this one, of course." _Hufffff… Hufffff… Munch, munch, munch…_

I guess I looked a _little_ silly, eating a fried apple like that, since Tiki chuckled at the sight of me.

"…What?" I asked.

"O-Oh, I'm sorry," she said. "It's just that, something about you reminds me of an individual I once encountered in Marth's time."

I frowned. "What kind of 'individual'?"

"Well, the memories of that person aren't that clear anymore, but I know that they, like you, carried a metal contraption on their left wrist. They also only appeared during Marth's struggles, and left once they were over."

 _Metal contraption._ I smiled. Blu _had_ mentioned how weird the names people kept coming up with were, especially for ZeroDrives.

And the struggles of the Hero-King Marth, eh? Only one guy I know who may have run into him.

That's what went through my head ad I _Mmm_ -ed thoughtfully. "Well…maybe you can ask Bluefield about that. He and his colleagues were around _waaaaay_ longer than we are."

"Really? What about you? How long have you acted as a Zero?"

"'bout two years now. Funny thing is, that's about when my friends and I first met big bro."

Tiki tilted her head. "Really? Were you and your brother separated at birth?"

"No, it's…way more convoluted than that," I said. "But I know more about what happened to us then, and we've put it behind us, more or less. Doesn't mean I'm ready to talk about it yet."

Tiki nodded, understanding. I guess some painful things happened to her, as well. "Ah. Then I won't force you to tell me."

"Thanks," I nodded. Sometimes, I'm grateful that people will respect my privacy. "Now, onto my second apple…" _Hufffff, hufffff… Munch!_

With that, we continued our walk through town, voices babbling and murmuring like a river around us.

* * *

"Tiki turned, munching the fried fruit-like thing in her hand." - I'm pretty sure it's rude for the Voice of Naga to talk with her mouth full. Though, _maybe_ it applies to Zeros, too? Not sure. —D

"And the struggles of the Hero-King Marth, eh? Only one guy I know who may have run into him." - No, I haven't. Sorry. —Blu

"Really? Were you and your brother separated at birth?" - That _definitely_ wasn't how it happened. Not if the interrogations we conducted on the perps are true. —Burna


	15. Not a Very Bright Individual(?) (Part 2)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Inigo did not know what he was in for when he spoke to Bluefield about this. But surprisingly, the Zero didn't act out of overprotectiveness. (Part 2 of 2)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Author's Note** : Again, special thanks to **smileplease91** of  A Day in the Life fame for this idea!
> 
> P.S.: can you guys spot any other references (subtle and otherwise)?
> 
>  **EDIT (11/1)** : fixing up several shoddy parts.
> 
>  **EDIT (12/17/2016)** : Edited from original post.

#### "Not a Very Bright Individual(?)" (Part 2)

#### Bluefield

* * *

Okay, yeah, my sword's not really made of iron, but "draw _steel_ " didn't sound right, for some reason.

Geez…

Inigo chose _not_ to panic too much as he drew his blade, blocking my strike. "Whoa—!"

I pressed up against his defense, my katana growing to full length against his sword. "Nice block."

"Uh, thank you…?" Inigo was indeed holding my blade back pretty well.

I grunted, my blade shuddering. _I don't think I can hold this up for long,_ I thought.

"Well, I'm this close, so _maybe_ I'll trim some off the top…" I inched my blade towards his hair.

"Rgh—!"

As I expected, Inigo shoved me back, his blade arcing, hissing against mine—sparks flying far, hitting the lake surface on my left.

_Hss! Hss!_

I stumbled back, regained my footing. "Hm," I said, pushing up my glasses.

My eyes flitted to the grey lake. I thought, _If only it were_ raining _now…_

Oh, well. Can't ever have everything going your way, right?

"Well?" I called. "What does a nobody have to do to get you to fight the hell back?"

"This wasn't what I was expecting at all!" the merc called back. "All I ask for is to duel for your blessing!"

Blessing. Well, if she and I were human at the moment, I could. It's possible. Except—

"Dude," I shook my head, "you're barking up the wrong tree. Now come on."

"Th-This is madness, Mister Bluefield! What is it that you want from me?!"

"Just show me your resolve," I snarled. "First to be knocked down without their weapon loses. _En garde!_ "

And all that s**t.

I charged like a wild animal, sword way out to the side.

* * *

Let me be clear: **I didn't really want to spar with Inigo that day.**

But there are some things you just _never_ do.

Like unwittingly breaking the contracts of others.

For those of you just tuning in, this is one of the things that happen when you're about to make that fatal mistake with a Zero.

* * *

**Recommended** : The BIONICLE Music

* * *

As Inigo prepared to hold me off, I arced the ZeroSword inward towards his chest, guessing that he'd swing upwards to parry.

Uncomfortably (hey, it was in mid-swing), I angled the blade vertically as his blade rose up to meet it.

_Kshhhhh—!_

Sparks flew as I jumped back, pushed away. It was Inigo's turn to strike.

"Aaaah!" He rushed towards me, sword raised, no longer smiling. The pebbles kicked up from underneath his boots as he ran.

Credit where it's due: when he must, he will. I got to my feet, holding my sword in some semblance of a stance.

The next few moments were a bit of a blur, but there was definitely a lot of clanging involved.

_CLANG! CLANG CLANG! CLANG! CLANG CLANG **CLANG!**_

"Ounf!" I was shoved back again, a good distance. Sliding on my feet across the rocks, grip tight on my sword, I looked up. Inigo was regaining his stance.

 _Now,_ I thought.

I rushed forward, jumped, and pulled my arm back to swing hard. "Aaaaaah!"

Just as my blade sailed at him, Inigo ducked it— _just_ in time. I landed, rolled, spun around to face him just as he swung at me.

More clanging ensued.

_CLANG! CLANG! CLANG CLANG! CLANG CLA-CLANG! CLANG—!_

"Whoa!" Inigo fell on his butt—nothing sharp, luckily—still clinging to _his_ sword. "Oof!"

I tried to bring my katana down on him—

"Raaaaaah—!"

—and it bit into the rocks.

As Inigo rolled away, a few bits of pebbles flew everywhere. I turned, but it was almost— _almost_ —too late. He was on the offensive now.

 _CLANG CLANG! CLANG CLA-CLANG! CLANG! CLANG! CLANG CLANG_ **CLANG!**

He almost grazed my right shoulder again. I barely managed to sidestep that.

 _This guy's tenacious,_ I thought, breathing heavily. _Probably._

_Ugh… Maybe I should wrap this up._

Gripping the katana in both hands, and stepping back a few, I launched a vicious uppercut strike. It didn't hit Inigo. It didn't need to.

The pebbles that flew at him via the brief new wind current did, though.

Inigo's eyes widened briefly. "Ah!" As I'd hoped, he reacted by covering his face with his free arm—leaving his stomach area exposed.

_Now._

Immediately, I rushed forward and, switching my grip, thrust the handle end (not the pointy end) at the area just under his rib cage.

_THUM!_

Now, if you've never been _knuckled_ just below your rib cage, count yourself lucky. Last time my human self suffered that (few years ago, I think), I couldn't _breathe_ for a second. It was _that_ painful.

That was the pain, albeit magnified, etched into Inigo's face as he fell to the ground, his sword _finally_ falling out of his hand.

_C-Clang!_

* * *

End The BIONICLE Music.

* * *

"Auhhhh!" He groaned in pain, pulling his limbs in to hug it out. I winced at the sight. Reminded me of the time Kyler kicked me downstairs.

 _Ai-yai-yai…_ and all that.

I walked over to him, sheathing the ZeroSword back into my chest. "You lose, sir." I held out a hand.

"Ohhhhhh…" moaned the merc.

I sighed. Grabbing his sword, I sheathed it into his scabbard before slinging his right arm over my right shoulder.

Standing up from the rocks (kind of), Inigo looked a bit dazed. "Unhhhh…"

"Come on, Inigo," I said. "Let's get back to camp."

 _Good thing I won't have to carry him the whole way,_ I thought.

* * *

The village that stood between us and the Shepherds' current campsite was finally able to rest easier, now that the Conqueror's army wasn't occupying it anymore. Still, there was the fear that more soldiers would be sent here from Valm Castle or one of the forts. And that fear layered over the town like a thin fog—barely perceptible, but definitely there.

Did it affect me? A little. Those guys aren't exactly pushovers.

Did it affect Inigo?

"Ah, fair maiden!"

You tell me.

"I—Owowowow!"

Dragging him away from the _third_ lady who had to deal with his nonsense, I only released his ear once we were well down the road. "Are we _quite done_ with that crap right now?" I asked, exasperated.

"Oh, come on, Sir Bluefield!" ("Sir". Okay.) "That damsel looked promising!"

"She also looked _annoyed_."

"Nothing a cup of tea can't fix, my friend!"

"Not everybody has the same tastes, dude." (Irrelevant case in point: I don't do tea.) "She might like milk or water or juice more than tea. Dude—is your attention span greater than mine?"

"What does that have to do with anything?"

"Right. You're not gonna think about the little caveat—" I suddenly rounded on him. "You're not a very bright individual, are you?"

"Wh-What?"

"You're not reading their body language at all. You simply jump into flirting straightaway, and you tend to comment on the wrong—" I threw my hands up. "Agh, whatever. That's nowhere _near_ the 'Great Big Caveat' that Dreyza never told you about."

Inigo seemed to sober up about this ever so slightly. "The 'Great Big Caveat'?"

"Yeah. You're here to prevent the very future you once came from, right? Yes or no?"

"…Of course." It was somewhat unsettling to see him like this now. But otherwise… "I can't sweep the ladies off their feet if we're all dead, correct?"

I rolled my eyes. "Yeah. So that means you're not here to _make it worse_ for everyOne, right?"

* * *

#### Dreyza

* * *

_Zzzzzzzip!_

Looking up from my book, I found Blu sticking his head through the tent flaps. "A duel for a date, huh?" he asked.

 _Ah._ I chuckled as he walked in. "Did he lose?"

"Yeah," he said as he sat down. "By the way, were you actually serious?"

"No. Noooo, no no no."

"Then—" Realization dawned across his face. "Ohhhhh… You're sneaky."

I chuckled. "Well, he's also persistent. I mean—you met him."

"Duh. And his reward was a blow below the ribs."

"Ooooh," I winced. " _And_ advice, I hope," I said.

"Yes, and advice. Geez…"

I turned serious. "He won't…break my contract by accident, will he?"

Bluefield nodded. "Yeah. Kinda feel bad about it, but it's just _not_ worth letting this world burn for it. At least he can make _informed_ decisions around you and Vespyr now."

I nodded, setting down the book in my hands. "Ah, well. Where is he now?"

"Last I saw him, he said he was gonna practice, if I knew what he meant. I didn't. He said combat practice. And I _haven't_ seen him in the new practice area, so…"

"Ah. What else did you guys talk about?"

"I—Really?"

"C'mon, I'm a little curious! Just humor me."

Bluefield sighed, looking weary. "Well…we're definitely something of opposites…"

And yet, somewhat similar.

* * *

"I rushed forward, jumped, and pulled my arm back to swing hard." - If you want to know what that move looked like, watch the _Quantum Break_ gameplay demo video on YouTube—the one with the bridge and the ship. It's similar to how Jack punched that grunt— _plus_ a sword, _minus_ a gun and the use of time manipulation. —Blu


	16. First Night in Valm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Bluefield and Trey finally unwind from the battle at Valm Harbor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Author's Note** : Apologies for drifting away from the Shepherds completely this time around. But, I thought you'd might be interested in these foreigners who have little to no business being here…
> 
> Thanks again to **Gunlord500** and **smileplease91** (at FanFiction.Net) for reading and reviewing almost every chapter so far! :D
> 
>  **EDIT (12/17/2016)** : Edited from original post.

#### "First Night in Valm"

#### Trey

* * *

The waves slowly rolled in, then rolled out. Rinse and repeat. …I think that's how it goes.

The stone steps beneath me were cool, devoid of the sunlight that had pounded on us earlier. It was hard to believe that a few hours ago, we'd managed to take the harbor from the Valmese army, let alone with that monster showing up. It was a good thing that Dreyza's dragon friend came when he did. I'm still surprised by how tenacious he is. "You _don't_ mess with GreyScale," Dreyza had said, paraphrasing one of her favorite Origin-Internet personalities. " _Ever._ That's a _terrible_ idea."

The memory of the dragon holding the glowing serpent in his mouth flashed across my mind. The wind picked up by a few degrees as I shuddered.

"Hey."

I turned. Somehow, Bluefield standing at the top of the stairway wasn't what was surprising to me in the least. What _was_ surprising was that he was holding two cans—one blue, one red—of what I'm pretty sure doesn't belong in this place.

"Hey," I replied.

"Mind if I join you?"

"Oh, no, go ahead."

Obliging, Blu came down the steps, taking a seat on my right. "Ah, finally," he exhaled as he settled down on the stone.

He looked rather tired, resting his arms on his knees. His brown eye held a…weary gaze at the shore. His grey hoodie dully reflected the moonlight above and torchlight behind, making him look older than he should be. His hair was messier than usual, but at least it wasn't "brown-caked-in-human-blood".

I looked away from him, but a moment later, I felt an ice-cold pat on my shoulder. Turning to him again, I found him holding out the two cans of soda, one in each hand.

Blu held them up and down. "Coke or Pepsi?"

I thought about it. Then I took the red can.

Bluefield chuckled as it left his left hand. "Coke for you, then," he said as he moved to open the Pepsi with his right hand.

_KSHHHH—! KSHHHH—!_

"Hmm… Thinking about a toast?" Blu asked me.

I stopped and thought about it. "Erm… What to?"

"Let's see…" His soda in his right, Blu started counting off his left, the can almost hanging precariously from his right. "The Shepherds' first victory on Valmese soil, and the new alliance with the leader of the Resistance?"

"That's a lot to do in one breath."

"It is? Well, in that case…" He held up his can. "To our charges' good luck?"

I smiled. "All right."

A dull, liquid-and-tin-on-tin clinking sound followed shortly.

Taking the can away from my mouth, I breathed as the bubbling beverage bit down my throat. "Ahhhhh…"

Beside me, Bluefield took a drink from his can, popped his neck, and sighed. Then, after a moment of silence, he turned to look at me. "Trey…you _sure_ you're okay?"

"Yeah," I nodded. "How's, uh… How's Leader?"

"She's fine," Blu answered simply. "Last I saw her, Dreyza was singing for the others."

"Again, huh? What's the song?"

"Move Along."

"Ah." The All-American Rejects. "She a fan of them?"

"Uhh, I think so."

"Huh."

"Why? Are you?"

"Uh, not yet." That was probably an interesting choice of words.

"Uhhhh, okay?"

An awkward silence started to settle in, ignored only by the rushing waves. I wasn't sure what to say now.

"…Y'know," he said, sweeping his arm out to the ocean, "this sight kinda reminds of the first time I documented a civil war."

"You mean Lanzheim?"

"Mm-hmm."

"Huh." It was still unsettling to know how much Bluefield had been through, compared to us. "Hey, Bluefield?"

"Hmm?"

"Do you know the person that Princess Say'ri was talking about earlier? The 'Voice of Naga'?"

"You mean Tiki?"

"Yeah, her."

"Uh…no. I don't."

"Oh…" I looked down at my can, a little disappointed.

"Why do you ask?"

"W-Well, I was kinda hoping you'd met her before…"

"Trey," he said—and I'm pretty sure he was being as gentle as he could, " _I_ didn't."

"Ah." Well, it was worth asking him…

"Nervous about meeting her?"

I nodded. "Yeah."

Bluefield shrugged. "Honestly? I kinda am, too. Though, I wouldn't be surprised if she didn't care about us at all."

"You really think that?"

"No, I'm just…" He faltered. "It happens sometimes. But at the same time, I _don't_ wanna make assumptions."

"The 'mother of all freak-ups'?"

He smiled. "Pretty much." Then his smile fell. "And, of course, there's the damn infestation."

"Yeah…that sucks."

Bluefield sighed. Then he downed what was left of his soda, folded the can, then stuffed it into his jacket pocket. "Well, we can worry about all that tomorrow," he said.

A glint of light suddenly drew my eyes up. "Ah…"

Bluefield noticed, too. "Shooting star?"

"Yeah."

"Hm." He leaned back, propping himself on his elbows. "Lotta stars tonight."

"Mmm." I nodded, finishing my wish, eyes skyward. "Are there this many stars on Earth?"

"Couldn't tell you. Light pollution where my human half lives."

"I see."

* * *

In retrospect, I hadn't asked if Natalise had met Lady Tiki.

Maybe I should have.

* * *

"A dull, liquid-and-tin-on-tin clinking sound followed shortly." - What the hell _do_ you call that, anyway? —Bluefield

"I breathed as the bubbling beverage bit down my throat." - I'm sorry, I actually couldn't resist from attempting wordplay again. —Trey


	17. Heads-Up, Please

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Dreyza accidentally walked in on Cordelia while in a somewhat embarrassing situation, and this happened next.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Author's Note** (from FF.Net): **smileplease91** , if you're reading this, ~~A.) Chapter 11: "Disability & Royalty" has yet to be graced with your review~~, and B.) I'd like to know how well you think I wrote Cordelia and Dreyza in this drabble.
> 
> On a completely unrelated note, in the last chapter, I accidentally mislead someone into thinking that Blu lost an eye. For the record: **Bluefield has both of his eyes intact.** He just has a left eye that's still brown. Trey was on the idiot's left, so that was the only eye he could see while Blu was staring out at the ocean.
> 
> All right, now that that's all squared away, here's the next chapter! Hope you enjoy! :)
> 
>  **EDIT (12/17/2016)** : Edited from original post.

#### "Heads-Up, Please"

#### Dreyza

* * *

My face was still a bit red. "I am _so_ sorry."

Cordelia sighed, the blood leaving her face. "Just…don't talk about what you saw."

Silent, I crossed my index finger and thumb horizontally over my mouth—a clear message: _My lips are sealed._

Well, she didn't say "don't _write_ about what you saw"… (Sorry, Cordy.)

For those of you just tuning in—yep, that's everyOne—I had walked into her tent while she was changing earlier. Without breaking pace, I immediately U-turned and parked myself outside, embarrassed. Like, _oh-s**t-what'd-I-just-stroll-into-I'm-such-a-moron_ kind of embarrassed.

And no, I'm not telling _you_ what I saw. (Pervs…)

It took a minute or two for the pegasus knight to come out, fully dressed in her armor and all. I immediately apologized.

And that's how I got here. Well— _kind_ of.

Cordelia put her hands on her hips. "All right, then," she decided. "What was so important that you couldn't wait until I was ready?"

Thank you for asking the question for the audience, Cordelia.

"Right, sorry. I wanted to let you know: once roll call, breakfast and warm-ups are wrapped up, we wanted to test you and a few others in a mock battlefield. No lethal weapons, items or attacks of any description. Of course."

The pegasus knight looked a little confused. "Wait—who do you mean by 'we'?"

 _Whoops._ I mentally facepalmed. "Me, Trey, Bluefield, and the other Zeros."

"Don't you need Frederick to give you people permission to break schedule? Especially since you're not technically part of the Shepherds?"

"Bluefield already did. _And_ Frederick's participating, along with Vaike, Miriel, Sully, Stahl, Kellam and Sumia." I paused, before my brain clicked: "Oh, and Donnel. Right." (Then I muttered, "Gotta get that down in my head…")

"Really…" After a moment of surprise, Cordelia nodded. "All right, then," she nodded, her bright berry-red hair appearing almost like light on fire in the morning sun.** "When will this 'unorthodox training' start?"

Huh. She caught on rather quickly. I smiled. "1000 hours sharp. We'll supply the 'weapons' for us all to use. Just bring your steed; you'll still need 'er."

"All right, I'll keep that in mind. See you later."

"Sure thing," I said as I turned to leave.

"Oh, and about—"

" _Don't worry!_ " I turned back to face her, walking backwards as I reaffirmed the lips-sealed gesture. "Not a word."

Still sorry, Cordy. But I _do_ have to use a journal-type device.

With that, I turned to head to the clearing past the main garrison building.

I smiled. _This is going to be an_ interesting _training session,_ I thought.

* * *

"My face was still a bit red." - Has anyOne figured out how Zeros can blush at _all?_ No? Okay, then. —D

"…her bright berry-red hair appearing almost like light on fire in the morning sun." - Watched _Kobato._ —the episode with the ginkgo tree—and that description about "light on fire" kinda stuck with me… —D


	18. "How Are You Doing Today?" & Zero Information

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Alexis meets Vaike in the middle of another "crisis"; and the Zero's personal information is revealed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Author's Note** : So **smileplease91** _had_ attempted to post a review for Chapter 11 (on FF.Net), but technical difficulties came up. However, in a recent message from her, she told me that, in her review, she "was happy you wrote about a disabled character, and Cynthia's sweetness toward him made [her] smile." Thank you, smile! :) I don't think we go into disabled characters often in FE fanfiction. I don't believe that I'm the first one to do so—not by any means—but I do think there should be a few more, at the very least.
> 
> Another thing: [**Cormag Ravenstaff**](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Cormag_Ravenstaff) told me that there isn't enough background for the OCs and other concepts brought up in this fanfic. To address this, I'll add some information at the end of this drabble for you all to read. Sorry for not providing basic information like this sooner!
> 
> One last thing: I'm thinking of changing Gabrys's name, and I need your help in choosing a replacement. I have four candidates here: ~~**Falkyn**~~ , ~~**Fedyr**~~ , ~~**Galdrys**~~ , and **Vespyr**. ~~If you wish to vote, please drop it in a review once you finish reading.~~
> 
> Thank you very much! I will now give you your drabble and info.

#### "How Are You Doing Today?"

#### Trey

* * *

"Ah, Trey!"

I turned from my book to find Mister Welman rolling down between the tents towards me.

"O-Oh, hi," I said, walking up to him. "What's up?"

"Nice to see that you're doing well here," said Alexis, reaching out for a handshake. "Ylisstol's surprisingly normal—well, for a medieval place, at least."

"I guess so," I replied as I finished shaking his hand. "It's not too bad. At least, when brigands and warmongers aren't trying to ruin your day."

Alexis chuckled sympathetically. "I can only imagine! By the way, I passed by this dress shop, and I was wondering—what's an Emmeryn polka-dot dress?"

 _Oh, dear, he found that?_ I actually laughed out loud, putting my book in the crook of my arm. "Uh, that's—"

"Hey! Trey!"

Vaike's loud voice rang out through the camp as he ran up to me. And then—

"Yo, sir," he said to Alexis. "You look great today."

"Why, thank you, sir."

Just as suddenly, Vaike turned back to me, his panic returning. "Trey, ya gotta help out your ol' buddy Vaike here!"

I stepped back. "Wh-What's wrong?"

Looking around briefly, the big guy whispered in my ear: _"Lost my axe. This morning."_

"Wha—" Then it hit me like a donkey (even though I have no idea what that is). _"Ohhhh… Did you check your tent?"_

"Nah, but—" Then it hit _him_ like a donkey. "…Oh, crap! Thanks, man! Just—"

"Yeah. Not a word."

With that, he turned tail and bolted back in the other direction.

I turned back to Alexis. He looked at me.

Then we both busted up laughing.

* * *

**_50 72 6f 6a 65 63 74 20 42 6c 75 65 66 69 65 6c 64 20 61 66 74 65 72 20 32 30 31 32_ **

* * *

####  _Information:_

There are currently 5 Zeros—"those who do not exist"—active during 2014. They are listed below:

* * *

**017 "Bluefield"** , also known as "Blu" to his colleagues and friends, is the advisor of the Ashen Wolves, a squad consisting of the only five Zeros in existence. A reluctant individual, he sees the Ashen Wolves as a second chance to make up for a past failure.

Appearing as a 21-year-old thin caucasian/Japanese-American male, Bluefield has inch-long brown hair and brown eyes—at least, the left eye is brown. His right eye is actually a shade of blue, but turns red in certain situations. He also wears a pair of thin glasses. Blu is often seen in his favorite grey jacket, and he tends to wear brand shirts (e.g. Quiksilver), long cargo pants (or cargo shorts that cover the knees), sneakers, and (occasionally) fingerless gloves. He is also known to carry around a backpack.

Bluefield's first weapon, the ZeroSword, is a katana; Bluefield's body—specifically, the area where the human heart should be—acts as its sheath. His second weapon, the ZeroHand, is a grey sleeve-and-glove combination that replaces Blu's right arm. It has various forms, including a paw-like thing with blade-like fingers that double as a buzz saw on a wire ("Ursa Blades"), and an undulating mass of water ("Extension Flood"). He also carries either a FN Five-SeveN pistol or a USP .45 w/ tactical knife. Some of Blu's abilities include (but are not limited to) the power to "rush through time", "bullet time" during combat, and the ability to transform into a dragon.

 **Miscellaneous** :

Currently likes: alone time, anime, the color #005075, computers, Japan, Japanese food, his iPod, jokes (well, some), listening to music (e.g. soundtracks), philosophy, pockets, reading, staying up late, video games (both good— _Kingdom Hearts II_ , _Xenoblade Chronicles_ —and interesting— _Dark Sector_ , _MagnaCarta II_ ), walking, writing, YouTube (e.g. Extra Credits, Markiplier, Matimi0, theRadBrad, TotalBiscuit, _RWBY_ ).

Currently dislikes: being bothered for paltry reasons, the F-word, game developers that try to censor opinions, the idea of getting his stuff soaked, hypnosis, jokes that he'll misconstrue (e.g. parody, tongue-in-cheek), Konami (not to a rabid degree), losing contact of others, playing the part of a god, snooty folks, spinach, "taking the lead", tea.

Currently hates: heights (acrophobia), himself (probably due to PTSD).

Plays drums.

* * *

**017-R "Dreyza"** is the leader of the Ashen Wolves. Recently discovered to be Bluefield's sister (it's complicated), this determined young woman quickly proved herself as a capable swordfighter and leader for a group of nobodies. Though she understands Bluefield's reluctance to lead the most, she still looks up to him as a brother and senior Zero.

Appearing as a 17-year-old "Japanese-American" girl, Dreyza shares Bluefield's brown hair and eyes. Her hair features an asymmetrical braid, but is otherwise cut "boyishly" short. Her eyes, on the other hand, mirror Bluefield's: brown for the right, blue/red for the left. Her wardrobe mainly consists of jackets, T-shirts, jeans and other pants, and footwear that includes sneakers and mid-lower-leg-high boots. Hates carrying purses.

Dreyza's weapon is a katana known as the Glint Sword; just like her brother and his sword, her body is the sheath for this weapon. She also carries a USP .45 handgun. Some of Dreyza's abilities include (but are not limited to) "bullet time" during combat, inhuman agility, and the ability to transform into a dragon.

 **Miscellaneous** :

Currently likes: anime, culture, dragons, having a living sibling, iced coffee, movies (e.g. _Princess Mononoke_ ), music, poking fun, reading, singing, snark, video games (e.g. _Portal 2_ ), YouTube.

Currently dislikes: being the only sibling with a living sibling, isolation, makeup, overly-popular memes, tyranny.

Plays guitar + vocals.

* * *

**016-R "Vespyr"** is the designated gunner of the Ashen Wolves. Recently discovered to be the sister of one of Bluefield's late squadmates (it's complicated), this mischievous young woman proved herself to be the best of the current Zeros in terms of handgun application in combat situations. Though probably more cheerful than her elder brother, she can get scary when necessary—enough to make a buff dude back off and run away.

Appearing as a 17-year-old "British" woman, Vespyr has wild, inch-long, dirty-blond hair. She also has green-and-yellow-and-orange eyes (think a faint orange-and-yellow flower against a backdrop of light green), and slightly dark skin. Her wardrobe includes T-shirts and long-sleeves, super-effective "magic skirts" and jeans, sneakers and boots. Doesn't like purses.

Vespyr's weapon is the Glint Magnum; it is stored in her head (yes, think of _Persona 3_ ). Some of her abilities include (but are not limited to) "bullet time", "weak point detection", and the ability to transform into a gryphon.

 **Miscellaneous** :

Currently likes: being a foil to/messing with Kyoku, coffee, flying, jokes, lampshade hanging, movies (e.g. _The Princess Bride_ , _Star Wars_ series), teasing Dreyza, video games (e.g. _Nidhogg_ ).

Currently dislikes: bigotry, disrespect (not to people), fops, makeup, negative parts of society, tea (I know— _blasphemy!_ ).

Plays guitar or violin.

* * *

**015-R "Kyoku"** (no, _not_ as in the Japanese word for "song") is the reconnaissance expert and medic of the Ashen Wolves. Recently discovered to be the brother of Bluefield's squad leader (it's complicated), this cynical young man found his "mickle might" (not sure what that means) with the bladebow, a lethal weapon at all ranges. Kyoku tends to act bitterly, especially when people point out similarities between himself and his late sister.

Despite his "heritage" as a 17-year-old "Japanese" male, Kyoku speaks with a noticeable Cockney accent (as opposed to Vespyr's Estuary). He has short black hair and dark-brown eyes. Kyoku tends to wear a down vest (Uniqlo brand) over a long-sleeve shirt. His wardrobe also consists of light pants, multipurpose shoes, and fingerless gloves.

Kyoku's weapon is the Glint Bladebow, which is stored in his forehead. Some of Kyoku's abilities include (but are not limited to) "bullet time", enhanced vertical leaping, and the ability to transform into a pair of _shīsā_ ("lion dog" from Okinawan mythology).

 **Miscellaneous** :

Currently likes: anime, basketball, horror, music, reconnaissance, YouTube.

Currently dislikes: alcohol, Bluefield, bubbly personalities, disrespect (not to people), overly-popular memes, s**t that "tastes like diabetes".

Plays piano.

* * *

**013-R "Trey"** is the youngest member of the Ashen Wolves. Recently discovered to be the brother of a rival Zero squad leader (it's complicated), this uncertain young man quickly found his best weapon in a certain gardening tool—the scythe. He reminds Bluefield of himself in the past—part of the reason that he decided to take him under his wing.

Despite his "heritage" as a 16-year-old "British" individual, Trey speaks with an accent that one could easily mistake for American. He has messy, inch-long jet-black hair, and poison-green eyes. Trey's wardrobe includes T-shirts, jeans, sneakers, and jackets, among a few things.

Trey's weapon is the Glint Scythe, which is stored in the side of his neck. He also carries a USP .45 pistol. Some of Trey's abilities include (but are not limited to) accelerated perception and reaction time during combat, and the ability to transform into a [ Information Redacted ].

 **Miscellaneous** :

Currently likes: anime, history, ice cream, music, reading, video games (e.g. _Final Fantasy X_ , _Xenoblade Chronicles_ ), walking.

Currently dislikes: arguing, death (ironic), fighting, losing people, isolation, "reaping".

Plays guitar + vocals.

The "main character", as it were, in this timeframe.


	19. The Siblings Meet REDACTED

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which another outsider falls into Ylisse, and Bluefield has a bit of his past dredged up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Author's Note** : Special thanks to **smileplease91** for the permission to use her character!
> 
>  **EDIT (12/17/2016)** : Edited from original post.

#### "The Siblings Meet 'Elena'"

#### Dreyza

* * *

A group of five Zeros appearing in the world of Ylisse isn't a big deal. An "out-world entity" of _any_ description appearing in Ylisse—well, _that's_ a red flag. (Or mauve flag, if you live in the Doctor's multiverse.)

What am I talking about?

Well, one day, I was dragging Blu towards the shore that leads to "Outrealm Gate Isle". _En route_ , there was a disturbance in the woods we were passing through.

"Stop pulling your hair, dude," I prodded.

Blu looked at me. "Huh?"

I reached with my right, and pulled his left away from his head. A thin strand of brown hair is hooked in his pinky.

Big bro groaned. His mental issues strike again, somehow. "Agh…" he uttered, exasperated, "…hope I don't start going bald."

I laughed. "That'd suck!" The thought of Blu starting to lose hair on one side was pretty cringe-worthy.

Sighing, he pulled out his iPod again. "Uhhh…" he said as he searched through his music library. "…Ah, here we go."

Day After Day by FreQuency

I looked at him. "Those guys again?"

"Are you gonna look at my personal stuff _every_ time?"

My held up my hands defensively. "Sorry, my bad."

He sighed. "And yes, 'those guys again'. I like their music. It's just something that—"

It was as he was putting it away that Bluefield looked up—and stopped.

I barely noticed (as in, I _did_ notice, but barely), which prompted me to stop and turn. "Bro?"

The ghost of stoic shock manifested in his face. Confused, I followed his gaze to the edge of the woods.

The prone form of a human Shell greeted my eyes.

* * *

"How does this happen?"

She was wearing a stark white long-sleeve shirt, jeans, and sneakers of some description. She had fair skin and dark-brown hair—darker than mine, and definitely straighter and longer.

She was laying against the tree, arms out to the sides, her expression peaceful.

It was slightly…disturbing. Seeing a Shell like this. Probably empty, probably not.

"I dunno," Blu remarked on my left, looking surprisingly melancholy. His earbuds were now stuffed in his pocket, music forgotten. We were both kneeling beside the Shell, wondering where she came from. "But…that's not what scares me."

I turned to look at him. "Scares _you?_ " I asked incredulously.

"It's just—" He gestured to the unconscious Shell's face. "I think my _real_ self saw her at least once. Maybe a photo, or a video… I just—this _can't_ be any damn coincidence."

"In your home world, eh? Hmm…" Thinking about that, I gingerly reached my hand and shifted a stray lock of hair away from the Shell's eyes.

Just as I did, hey eyelids flickered. "Unnnnhhhhh…"

"AGH!" I jumped backward, onto my butt, startled. If this had been an Umbral, I probably would have—well, gladly, I _didn't_ , but I still cringe when I think about it.

Yeah, this isn't like when Chrom and co. met [ REDACTED ] at all.

Apparently, my outburst startled the Shell as well. She woke with a start, her back taking a sudden departure from Tree Airport as she sat up, head darting left and right. "Wh-What—?" She looked at us, bewildered. "Who—?"

"(ah, damn—) Calm down, ma'am," Blu said quickly, suddenly on his feet, hands up. "You're not in danger."

The Shell—who was _definitely_ inhabited by a soul (empty Shells don't react like she did upon awakening)—looked up at him. "O-Oh…okay," she managed. Her accent definitely wasn't like Blu's—yes, it was _definitely_ American, but probably from a different region of that country.

Blu finally exhaled, the prospect of a panicked civvie in a foreign world sharply averted. And he was holding back his surprise back as best he could while he was at it.

"All right," he finally decided, and offered his hand to the woman. "Can you stand?"

"Y-Yeah," she responded, taking my brother's hand. "Thanks."

I stood up as she did. "Uh, hey—sorry for startling you," I said apologetically, briefly bowing Japanese-style. "That was very…eh…'unbecoming' of me, as some folks would say."

The woman looked taken aback. "Oh, it's fine. I guess I just fell asleep, but…yeah."

I scratched the back of my head, still embarrassed. "Eh-heh… Ah, anyways, what's your name?"

"Ah, it's…eh…Elena."

Bluefield raised an eyebrow. "Huh…"

"Well, I'm Dreyza." I gestured to him. "And this is my brother Bluefield."

Maybe I was imagining it, but I saw a flicker of recognition in Elena's eyes. "Bluefield?"

I paused. "Yes?"

 _Beep-beep!_ _Beep-beep! Beep-beep!_ _Beep-beep!_

"What the—?" Blu looked down at his ZeroDrive, which was flashing its white light. Bringing the wrist-mounted device below his eyes, he pressed the flip-screen display open. As he scanned it, I looked over at it—and we both went, "What the—?"

There was a profile photograph of Elena. And with it was what appeared to be an Internet username: smileplease91.

"No way…" Stunned, Blu looked back up at the woman. "…s…smileplease91?" he managed to utter.

Suddenly, Elena looked like she'd just had an epiphany of some description. "…017Bluefield?" she asked.

I looked between them, amazed. "Wow, I didn't know you two knew each other!" I turned to my brother. "Lucky we found her, ri—"

I stopped at the sight of him, and my smile slowly fell.

"—B…Bluefield…?"

He was covering his mouth in horror. The look in the eyes behind his glasses…I thought he was about to _cry_ in shock. He was slowly backing away from the woman. "Nonononononononono…" he muttered, as though horrified by her presence. "This can't be… Just can't…"

Elena looked worried. "Um, Bluefield?" She reached out.

Well-meaning, true; but, as I later learned, a slightly-misguided gesture.******

Crying out, Blu stumbled backward, landing on his backside. Backing up into a tree, his face scrunched up, a faint glisten of tears in his eyes.

I rarely ever saw him like this, but _every freaking time,_ it caught me off-guard.

Bluefield pulled off his glasses and, hanging onto them, buried his head in his arms. He began to…

He began to _sob._

I looked back at Elena. "I-Excuse me for a moment…" With that, I walked over to him, knelt down on one knee. "Bro, what's—what's wrong…?" I asked softly.

His eyes still covered with his right arm, he looked at me. "…didn't want…my home world…involved anymore…" he choked out.

I remembered the war records. "Ah… Right."

Bluefield took another few breaths. "…take…take Elena to camp…to…"

I nodded. Civilian Safety Protocol Three. "I know, bro," I said gently. Then I gave him a hug—under the circumstances, it was all I could freaking do. "Take your time, okay…?"

Sobbing, Blu nodded, eyes still covered.

Standing up, I turned back to Elena, who looked rather…guilty? No, maybe something else.

The wind picked up, through the leaves, and Elena brought her arms in. Chilly.

"You cold, ma'am?" I asked.

"O-Oh—yeah, a little…"

Nodding, I pulled off my jacket and draped it over her shoulders. "Here," I said. "You need it more than I do at the moment, anyway."

And with that, Elena and I strode our way back to camp, the wind and the sobs ringing around us.

* * *

"Outrealm Gate Isle" - Hey—I'm not the best at giving nicknames to _places_. _People_ , I can nail; just not _places_. I will fully admit that now. —Dreyza

"Yeah, this isn't like when Chrom and co. met [ REDACTED ] at all." - … _waaaaait_ a minute… How similar _is_ this to Chrom and co. finding [ REDACTED ]? —Bluefield

"Apparently, my outburst startled the Shell as well." - No rhyme intended. —Dreyza

"And he was holding back his surprise back as best he could while he was at it." - By this point, it's "still barely". —Dreyza

"That was very…eh…'unbecoming' of me, as some folks would say." - Thanks, Maribelle. —Vespyr

"…but, as I later learned, a slightly-misguided gesture." - Remind me to whack him upside the damn head. **Bluefield needs to pull it the _freak_ together.** —Kyoku


	20. Let's Play some Nidhogg! (Part 2)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Vespyr and Morgan play a fencing game that _definitely_ has a giant snake in it. (Part 2 of 2)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Author's Note** : Two important announcements!
> 
>  **First** : Gabrys's name will now be **Vespyr**. Thank you to those who chipped in their two cents: **Cormag Ravenstaff** , **Emblem of Light** , **Gunlord500** , and **smileplease91**!
> 
>  **Second** : We've reached over 50 reviews [on FF.Net]! To those of you who partook in it: thanks for all the feedback! I never really expected this! :D
> 
> Based on TotalBiscuit's first livestream of _Nidhogg_.
> 
>  **EDIT (11/27/2015)** : Minor spacing and other edits.
> 
>  **EDIT (12/18/2016)** : Edited from original post.

#### "Let's Play Some Nidhogg!" (Part 2)

#### Vespyr

* * *

_Wilds_

There's a waterfall and an autumn forest in the background.

There's a long platform and land on either side.

There's a yellow fencer on the left and an orange fencer on the right.

There's a pair of platforms above us.

"There's a squirrel… _Is_ it a squirrel?"

"Yeah," I nodded. "You can't—You can't attack the squirrel, I'm afraid."

"Oh."

"Okay, I think you kinda get the idea by now. So, the mechanics of the game are quite simple, but there's a bit of depth to it—" _Stab._ "And, uh, you _die_ instantly."

"Uh, yeah, that's—bad," Morgan agreed as Yellow became another yellow puddle of yellow blood.

Orange _GO_ arrow—go left to win. "You just gotta be a little bit more careful, eh?"

Yellow was already back. "Uh-huh…? Uh-huh…?"

"So, I could just run past you here…"

Morgan doesn't attack. "You _could._ "

"…so in theory, you wanna stop me from doing that," I continued, having Orange go up to the raised platform, on my side of the starting point. "One way you could do that is, if I'm running, to throw your sword at my back. It'll usually catch me."

Just as Morgan directed Yellow onto the opposite plat, I started jabbing the up and down arrows, making Orange switch stances and duck as though it was an over-caffeinated toddler.

"A-ha!" I declared. " _En garde!_ "

Morgan obviously thought it looked ridiculous. "…what."

I switched Orange to middle stance. "You killed my father," I quoted, grinning. "Prepare to die."

Morgan giggled—and ran off—in the wrong direction.

 _What?_ I jumped to the left, over towards my opponent. "Go for the high attack—g-get back here!"

"No!" Yellow ran through the wheat field, which obscured them from my sight. "Haha! Why should I?!"

I had already decided to take TB's advice. "Sword~! …Nooo!"

It sailed over harmlessly. "Ducked it!" Morgan bragged. _Stab._

"Agh!" Yellow GO.

"Nah-nah-nah!"

"Ducking is an unfair strategy! Yes, I know: hypocritical humor. And also"—Orange had already respawned and stabbed—"I'm hiding in the wheat, where you can't see me."

 _Stab._ Orange GO. Throw my sword. _Splat._

"A-ha! …Where's my sword?" Ah, there it is. "Alright."

Then my finger slipped.

"Wh—No! I didn't wanna throw the sword!" I cried as Orange died.

Yellow GO. Morgan laughed as she ran to the right. Then died by jumping onto my sword. Yes, that's how fast this game is. Orange GO.

"Well, at least I know that mistake wasn't—" I make that fake face of disbelief. " _Inconceivable!_ "

"Hahaha! Okay. What was that moving picture thing you were quoting from again?"

I chuckled. "The Princess Bride. Whoa— _ah-ah-ah-ah!_ "

That wasn't a quote. That last part was because Morgan ran to the right—despite the fact that there was an Orange GO pointing left. "—wait, what?" stopped Morgan, confused.

"Ah, it doesn't matter," I said as Orange jumped onto the left platform. "See that orange arrow? Means I killed you last, so _I_ can go."

"Noooo."

"Until _you_ kill _me_ , of course. Come get me! Come—" Deflected a flying sword. "—Come get me!"

Yellow jumped—and we both went "Ouuw!"

"Jumped _right_ onto my sword! That was ugly. All right…" I jumped down, stabbed the next Yellow. "A-ha!"

"Ahh!"

"Go go go go! Stab!"

"This is not fun!" Morgan cried. "This is just a slaughter!"

"Wh—It was fun when you were _winning!_ "

 _Stab._ "Okay, now it's more fun."

"Yeah… I hope the fact that this is running smoothly is helping you." I ran for the left.

"Yeah, that frame-rate jargon." She jumped towards me as I ran to the left. " _Nooooo!_ "

She jumped, I turned—

_Paused_

—just as the pause menu popped up. _What the—?_ I thought as I looked down at my controller.

" _What_ did you do?" Then Morgan looked down at _her_ controller. "Wait…ohhh, _I_ did that—"

My mouth started to work here. "That was _you!_ " I accused.

Morgan un-paused the game, and Yellow instantly died by jumping on my sword again. "My finger slipped. Sorry!"

"Uhh…" I sighed as I entered the next screen (raining woods). Yeah, that _also_ tends to happen when you do your nails yourself. The "Whoops, un-pause" thing.

Yellow jumped the gap—kinda. It hung there for about a second before jumping at Orange, who proceeded to gut the yellow-bellied enemy.

"A-ha!"

"Aww, that wasn't fair!"

"Well,"—Yellow respawned at this point—"you tried."

"I did."

I brought Orange's rapier overhead. "Have a sword."

 _Clang!_ went the sword as it sailed into the platform opposite me. "Hey, can you wield two swords at once in _Nidhogg_?"

"No, but that _would_ be pretty cool," I admitted, talking as Yellow casually divekicked my guy and snapped its neck. "Oh, there you go! Quick! Run!" (Starting screen.) "Run run run!"

And Morgan ran, ran through the wheat.

"There. See? You're getting the hang of it."

"Sort of…"

I ran out of the wheat and awaited her arrival. "It's—It's a si—" _Stab._

"Ow!" Yellow blood, just right of the wheat (on the screen).

"—It's a simple game; it's just that running right into a sword doesn't seem like a good"— _Stab._ —"idea. **OW!** "

Morgan laughed.

"All things considered," I finished.

Morgan rolled under my high strike. As soon as Yellow stood back up—

 _Stab._ "Ah, through the head!" I declared triumphantly as I jumped onto the plat on the right.

Yellow tried to reach me again, but Orange bounced over and ran to the left, through the wheat.

"I'm gonna leave now. Goodbye."

" _Noooooo!_ —why can't I throw my sword?"

"Uh, I _don't_ think you can do it while _running_ …"

" _Ohhhhhh…_ "

"You wanna throw the sword?" I stopped Orange on the left side of the wheat. "You press the Up and Feint buttons to throw—well, when you're not _dead_ ," I added as Yellow burst into yellow blood again.

"Ah, okay."

"And, if you want to do a leg sweep, you hold Down and press Attack."

"Yeah, I got that part."

"All right." I picked up my sword again (dropped it when Yellow tried to kill Orange) as Yellow walked out of the wheat again. "Okay, I shall give you an honorable duel!"

_Cling! Cling! Cling! Whish! Cling!_

"I shall attack high." _Stab._ "A-ha! I disarmed you! Then I killed you!"

"A-ha!" Morgan laughed as I ran back to the raining forest. "Wh-What is this about?!"

"A-ha!"

"Everything we'll say this match"—Stabbed Yellow.—"is gonna be, 'A-ha!'"

"A-ha! Doubt it. For example:"—here, I jumped down, ran at Yellow—"I doth vanquish thee, you cur! You cur!"

"Ahhh!" Morgan ran to the left, in vain. "Nooo!"

"You cur!"

"No! _Ah!_ "

And I kicked Yellow down—oh, how convenient!—at the edge of the screen. "I'm just gonna leave," I said as Final Screen shook in the middle of the monitor. "Ha, see ya!"

What happened next was pretty freaking underhanded, even for people like that Valmese jackass.

" _Agh!_ Wha—!" Orange stopped running.

"Tickle attack! Real-life tickle attack!" Morgan declared, her right hand crawling over my belly like a frightened spider.

"Th-That's my stomach! That's not fair!"

"Yes, it is!" Yellow ran through the wheat, stabbed me. _This little—!_

"No, it's not!" My mouth was lagging behind again, unlike Morgan's hand, going back to her controller. "You didn't even capitalize on that—"

"I did! I killed you!"

"—at all! You're—You're a terrible cheater!" Yellow went back to the raining forest. "It—auh, dammit. Get back here!" I tried to intercept, go after the slippery banana peel of a fencer. "You know, if this were an official tourney and you pulled that, you'd be disqualified _immediately_. Wh—G[et]— _Mmm_ —"

Too late; starting screen.

"— _aww_ , _sod_ ding hell!"

"Nah-nah-nah-nah-nahhh!" Morgan sang as she rushed through the wheat field. "Nah-nah-nah-nah-nah—" _Stab._ In the field. "Auh!"

"Ha!" I laughed in triumph. "Ha, you never saw that one coming, did you? Just a lot of stabbing!"

"When every level is nothing but—" It was at this point that Morgan decided to dive-kick me—into the raining forest—with no weapon of any description.

I sputtered, "Oh—damn, I—!"

"—stabbing, it's—oh, great," Morgan groaned as she charged. "I _knocked_ you into the next screen! How dumb of me was _that?_ "

I didn't answer. "A-ha! Leg sweep! Sweep the leg!" _Stab._ "There we go!"

Cue us jumping from the ground to the platforms and vice versa.

"You cannot catch me!" I declared. Final screen. "I'm the gingerbread man!"

Morgan laughed. "My _mom's_ not made of gingerbread!"

"I know that! Now have a sword!"

It flew right into Yellow. "Ah, I jumped _into_ the sword! Nooo!"

I ran into the only building on the screen—door on either side, window above the right-side door. "Well, _that_ didn't seem like a very good idea, did it?"

"No." Yellow reappeared on the other side.

"You clearly didn't think that one through." I stood in the left doorway.

Morgan decided to try to crawl past.

I switched stance and rammed the sword into Yellow's face.

"Nyeeeeh!" she giggled.

" _That_ was your grand plan?!" I asked, laughing. "Really?"

Take two. Yellow _rolls_ below the sword.

"A-ha!" Orange throws Yellow's body off of its sword. "I stab you again!"

Yellow reappeared.

"Come at thee, cur!" Yes, probably bad Olde English. Deal with it. "Uh, you might wanna try other stances. Just going mid—"

 _Stab._ In the groin.

"Uh, yeah." Yellow GO. "Like that. Like that, yeah." Orange returned; Yellow didn't get to enter the wheat. "A-ha!"

"Ha-ha!"

"A-ha!"

"Is that what you're going to label your video? ' _Nidhogg_ : A-ha! A-ha! A-ha!'?"

"Maybe." Yellow dive-kicked again—Orange disarmed. "Ah, bollards! Uhh- _uhh_ -ah!" I ran into the wheat.

Yellow followed—and promptly got kicked again. "Ah!"

Yes! Even footing! Punch! Punch! "Fight me! Fight me!" Then Yellow sweeps its leg. "No! Uh— _don't_ fight me."

 _Snap!_ Yellow GO. Morgan laughs. "Ah!" Then Yellow falls to the ground, death by flying sword.

Back into the building.

"The wheat field is gonna be soaked with blood," she noted.

 _Crash!_ Through the glass. "The wh—The wheat field is death," I agreed. _Stab._ " _Awww_ , no!" I cried.

"A-haaaaah!" Yellow ran into the wheat. Little does Morgan know—

"A-ha! Stab!" I yelled. "Wh—Wait, what—?"

" _Ahh!_ I didn't see you!" Morgan squeaked as Yellow ran past—disarmed but alive.

"Wait, wait wait wait— _get_ back here!" In desperation, I pressed Up + Feint.

Too late. Morgan reached the raining forest again.

"Agh! Biscuit!" I exclaimed as Orange tried to stop its opponent. "TotalBiscuit!"

"That's not a swear!"

"That's right. It's a pseudonym. Temporarily repurposed for a joke."

"Really?"

"Mm-hmm." We both jumped on a platform, Orange stabbing, Yellow landing. "No—"

A split-second of registering what we were seeing:

_Paused_

"What!" Morgan started giggling uncontrollably.

"Unfair strategy—" I fell to the ground, where Yellow reached me. "—W _hat the hell?!_ " _Snap!_ "You cheating _jerk!_ Sheesh!"

Another _Snap!_ "Nah-ni-ni-nah!" Starting screen.

"That—That _is_ bullcrap. Completely dishonorable bullcrap." I threw my sword. "A-ha! Oh—" So did she. "— _ooh!_ No!"

"Nahhhhh! Nuh-nuh-nahhhh! Nuh-nuh-na—" _Stab._ "Aw…!"

"None of that crap, thank you very much!" _Stab._ " _Sodding hell…!_ "

Back to the starting area. I intercept, she lands—

_Paused_

popped up for a quarter second.

" _Will you stop that?!_ " I exclaimed, even as Orange resumed shish-kebabbing Yellow through the chest.

"You got me anyway. I need to wipe my hands. …Okay, not too much sweat."

"And…" _Stab._ "There we go."

_Sigh…_

Back into the wheat! "I shall _cut_ out your heart and feed it to the _dogs!_ "

 _Snap!_ "Except that's what I did to you."

"That—That was not 'de-heart-ing'; that was snapping my guy's neck again."

Insert us jumping around each other like idiots again.

 _Stab._ "A keen strike," I narrated, "to the abdomen!"

"Boo!"

 _Stab._ "Sweep of the leg!" I ran left, into the wheat, prey dead for the moment.

Yellow returned. "A-ha!"

"A-ha!" More jumping in the wheat. _Stab._ Orange GO. "That's pretty much _all_ you need to do. Grab some friends, play 2 hours of _Nidhogg_ , and say 'A-ha!' over and over again."

Raining forest. "2 hours of 'A-ha!'" Morgan laughs.

"Well, I'm gonna leave. Oh, by all means!" Missed the throw attack. "Ooh—uh—oh dear—" So did she! "—a-ha!"

Final screen, final time. "Oh, noooo!" Morgan cried.

"It's okay! I ducked it! It's fine!" False reassurances aside, I attacked—and for two frames—

_Paused_

"STOP PAUSING!"

Yellow GO. Morgan was laughing too hard. "I'm sorry! I'm not trying to!" _Stab._ Orange GO. "I ran into you because I couldn't see you! Nice!"

 _Cling!_ went Yellow's swordas it dropped from its hand.

"Stab stab stab stab stab!" I ran into the building, rolled—and we both threw our swords.

Three guesses what happened.

"Awwww, what the hell?!"

"We both died? What?!"

"Unacceptable!" Wait, why did I throw my sword then? "Oh, that was stupid."

"You—You got it back." Kick, kick, went Yellow, trapping me against the building outside.

"No—no—" _Snap._ "—agh…!"

Yellow ran right, into the wheat, threw its sword. Then I saw it punching me.

"Oh, no—oh, crap! Punch, punch!" _Snap._ "Yes!"

"Muh!"

"Another fistfight under my belt!" Yellow reappeared in the building. "In through the glass!" _Crash!_ "Throw the sword! Grab and stab!"

"No!" Morgan cried as Yellow respawned—too late to do anything.

" _Ahhhhh_ there we go!" The peanut gallery cheered for Orange once again.

"Boooo… I suck at this game—" Then Nidhogg appeared and— _crunch!_ —Orange became orange blood caked on its mouth. " _And the[n]—!_ "

The look on Morgan's face was freaking _priceless_.

"What happens—? Like, ah— _how_ do you _continuously_ get eaten by a sn—is it a _snake?_ Is it a _dragon?_ Is it _Endragon?_ "

"No, no, and what are you thinking? Oh, and 'cause it's—it's Nidhogg the game."

"But why?! _Why?!_ You _paint_ the wheat fields _slick_ with the blood of your enemies, to— _only_ to be _eaten_ by a _giant snake!_ "

"I think it's a metaphor, for the complete pointlessness of life."

"…Uh-huh…"


	21. Stuffing without the Turkey

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the big eaters are forced into an eating contest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Author's Note** : this one's for **Emblem of Light**. Didn't think Blu or Stahl would do this by choice, but then I thought: what if some other individual forced 'em to do it? And so here we are! Enjoy!
> 
>  **EDIT (12/18/2016)** : Edited from original post.

#### "Stuffing without the Turkey"

#### Bluefield

* * *

"Uhhhhhhhhh…"

I looked over at him, mashed potato hanging from my lip.

Stahl was leaning back in his chair, hand on his stomach and groaning. "…Why _did_ we let Vespyr talk us into this…?"

"Talk _you_ into this," I pointed out, feeling the bulge in what was definitely my intestinal organs. "She dragged _me_ here by my hood."

"Ah… Oh, man…"

"Damn… Guess even a Zero has limits." With that, I placed the empty bowl of mashed potatoes precariously on the stack on the left-hand chair. "Freak, okay…that's twenty."

Vespyr snickered as she drew another tally tick on the board.

**_Bluefield - 20  
_** **_Stahl - 6_ **

"All right, another one for the senior," the gunslinger called to the kitchen.

"Roger…" Trey called back.

"Oh, _no…_ " I moaned. " _Please_ stop…!"

Vespyr wagged her finger. "Ah- _ahhh!_ Forty-three more minutes or you have to deal with the consequences!"

_Oh, geez… She's a lot like Olivear and she doesn't even know it…_

I groaned. I'd already gotten sick of mashed potatoes sixteen bowls ago. Stahl only looked constitutionally better than me by three degrees—and he's human. "Oh, gods, help…"

Ves laughed like a TV show villain as Trey matched out of the kitchen, looking regretful as he delivered another bowl of the mashed stuffing onto my table.

The newblood looked at me, and I practically heard him telepathically tell me, _I am_ so _sorry_ , before heading back.

_Oh, dammit, I don't think I can take much more…_

"Please, Miss Vespyr," Stahl moaned feebly. "Let us go…!"

"Ha-ha!" Ves declared triumphantly. " _Not_ until you reach thirty bowls! Only then will you—"

"Will they _what_ , 016-R 'Vespyr'?"

This is one of those times where I've _never_ been more glad for Dreyza popping up the way she does. _Thank goodness…_

Leader was standing in the garrison doorway, hands on her hips, an _oh-man-what-the-freak-have-you-been-doing- **now?**_ look on her face.

Upon seeing Dreyza, Stahl breathed a sigh of relief. "Oh, thank gods…"

"O-Oh, Dreyza!" Vespyr stammered. "Uh, this is…er…it's—"

"An eating contest? With a native? Okay," Dreyza frowned as she approached her teammate, "I think you've got a lot of explaining to—what—Trey?!"

Slowly, Trey poked his head out. "…hi…"

Dreyza groaned. "Hahhhhhhh…" Then she grabbed Vespyr by the upper arm—"Agh! Hey!"—and dragged her along as the two entered the kitchen (Trey politely got the hell out of their way).

As the tongue-lashing commenced, I decided to take one more bite of the salted mashed potatoes, chewed, swallowed…and decided to throw my hands up. "Okay. Okay. Enough. That's enough. I need a drink. Okay."

Stahl looked at me, shocked. "Wh—Seriously?"

I blew out a line of air. "Yeah." Reaching down into the icebox-compartment, I pulled out some cans of Coca-Cola. _Thunk! Thunk! KSHHH—!_

Setting back the pull tab, I took a long draft from the aluminum can, and promptly went _BUUUUURP!_ "Ahhhhh…"

Stahl chuckled. "Nice, but you might not have much on Vaike in that department."

"Thought never crossed my mind, sir." I offered him the second can. "One for whenever you feel you can stomach edible objects again."

"Thanks." The cavalier took the can and, after a bit of fiddling, went, "Ah, okay," and flipped the top open. _KSHHH—!_

"Okay, then…" I raised my can. "For surviving some bullcrap pulled by one of my teammates?"

"Ah, alright. Fair enough."

Chuckling despite the bulges in our stomachs, we clinked our cans.

* * *

"Bluefield - 20" - I know asking this doesn't help with keeping authority, considering the sitch, but: _how_ the freak is Blu almost rail-thin? —Dreyza

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Before wrapping up for the night, I'd like to give a moment to the people of Paris, who have recently been hit by terrorist attacks. I hope that they can recover from this tragedy, and take the steps towards making the city and country safer for everyone. If anyone from France happens to read this, here's a message from a worthless individual: _Tu n'es pas seul._
> 
> See you next time. :)
> 
> — **017Bluefield**


	22. Oh Freak, Not Frogs!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Trey has a groggy breakfast. ...Psych!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **EDIT (12/22/2016)** : Edited from original post.

#### "Oh Freak, Not Frogs!"

#### Trey

* * *

Absentmindedly, I poked the egg on my plate with my fork. It immediately bled out yellow yoke, all over the oily shine of the white, and onto the wooden dish.

I sighed. I didn't really feel awake at the moment.

"Hey, Trey! Where aaaaare you?"

"Mmm?" I looked up to my left. Princess Lissa had skipped her way into the eating area, her wild pigtails swinging as she looked left and right.

"Trey? Are you heeeeeere?"

Almost lethargically, I waved my right hand, elbow resting on the table.

In retrospect, I probably shouldn't have.

"Morning, Lissa…" I said, smiling slightly, unaware of what I was getting myself into.

"Ah, Trey!" The princess ran over to my table—at my left—looking bright as ever. "I was looking for you in that wierd tent of your friends' earlier. Why didn't you guys invite me to that training session you're having today?"

I balked. "Uh—that's Dreyza's call, first and foremost. She…I _think_ it's to gauge some of the Shepherds' fighting capabilities, but…" I shook my head. "I'm still half-asleep, honestly. Might've misheard her."

Lissa hmph'ed. "Well, maybe I'll talk with your leader. I can—huh?"

Following her gaze over my right shoulder, I looked out the window behind me. Dreyza and Bluefield were moving through the garrison campsite, groaning as they carried a load of crates between them. Cue Vespyr following, with a grin across her mouth and a stack of wide wooden boards her height atop her head.

"Wow… Your friends are pretty wierd," Lissa noted, taking in how ridiculous it must've looked. "Where did you find them?"

"I didn't," I said without thinking about it. " _They_ found me."

"Huh… Well, thanks for telling me about Dreyza!" I turned to find Lissa smiling at me. "See ya later, Trey!"

"O-Okay, later…"

With that, Lissa turned on her heel and skipped out the door.

"Hmm…" With that, I turned back to my breakfast and poked the egg yolk again.

_RIBBIT!_

I should've noticed the new green "condiment" sitting atop it. Facing me directly.

"Aaaah— ** _AAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH!_** "

* * *

#### Lissa

* * *

Stifling a laugh, I pulled away from the doorway and rushed off to find Dreyza.

 _Yes!_ I cheered in my head. _That scream was_ so _priceless!_

Did I feel slightly guilty? Yeah.

But come on—a break from the castle, er, decorum is something you just _can't_ pass up.

* * *

"I should've noticed the new green 'condiment'" - Uh, wouldn't you mean "topping" or something along those lines? :-/ —Bluefield

"Did I feel slightly guilty? Yeah" - Yeah, thanks for traumatizing my teammate. >:( —Dreyza

"decorum" - Thanks, Maribelle. —Dreyza


	23. Stream of Consciousness with a Taguel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which stream of consciousness is the driving force of a conversation with Panne.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **EDIT (12/22/2016)** : Edited from original post.

#### "Stream of Consciousness with a Taguel"

#### Dreyza

* * *

"Your heartbeat is rather…odd," Panne said, shifting out of her taguel form.

I looked up from my hands on my knees to face her. "Really…?" I panted. "I never noticed."

It was close to dinnertime. We'd just finished running five laps around the camp perimeter. It was close. After five rounds of sprinting past some folks and making poor Gaius dizzy, Panne beat me by _five-point-four_ seconds

"No man-spawn has such a number of beats at any one time," the bunny lady continued. "What _are_ you, really?"

Standing up straight, I pulled out my water bottle, unscrewed the top, and poured the contents down my throat. Ylissean water sure tastes slightly different.

I tipped it back upright. "Ahhh…" Wiped my mouth. "Not sure, honestly. You'd think a year would be enough to figure out _what_ the hell I am; turns out it's not."

Panne crossed her arms. Even in the dim torchlight, the last taguel looked pretty imposing. "You don't know _what_ you are? Hmph."

"Well, I _do_ know one thing: we Zeros matter way, way, _way_ freaking less than the Ones you call 'man-spawn'." I shrugged. "So I'd imagine that leaves you with every right to consider me and my squadmates as just faces in the crowd."

"And what is a s—" Panne stopped. "What do you mean, you don't matter?"

I threw my hands up. "Hey—ask my brother about it. Blu's been at this for a while; he knows his stuff inside and out. _And_ he's making carrot curry and rice right now."

I think that last bit really got her attention. "Hmm… Perhaps I'll consider speaking to your brother."

"HEY!" Sully's voice rang out from the front of the dining tent. "Soup's on, wimps!"

"Co-min'," I called back before turning back to Panne. "Alright, let's grab some grub."

Panne followed, shaking her head. "Man-spawn or 'otherwise', you people have some rather strange turns of phrase."

"I guess so," I agreed. "By the way, Blu was rather grumpy about not being able to add potatoes to the pot this time."

The taguel looked at me, and I swear she had this look of mild horror. "He almost—"

"But didn't," I sighed. "Don't worry, he's not _entirely_ absent-minded. His cooking _won't_ make you throw up."

"Ah, all right. …Dreyza?"

I looked at her. "What?"

"How did he know I like carrots?"

She's kidding, right?

* * *

"…making poor Gaius dizzy…" - No, he _didn't_ take anything off my person. No need to worry about him much, Blu. —D

* Uh, thanks. —Bluefield


	24. Another Hunting Ground

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which…um…what happens here again?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **EDIT (12/22/2016)** : Edited from original post.

#### "Another Hunting Ground"

#### Kyoku

* * *

Reaching the crest of the hill, I groaned. "Seriously?!"

"Is it Risen?" asked the man in the suit of armor beside me.

I sighed. "I _wish_."

The village below the hill was all but, as the Origin world's gamer community would call it, wrecked (or rekt). Doors were ajar, swaying in the stagnant breeze and the harrowing screetching. Windows were smashed in. Shops had been barged through, like cardboard barriers. Massive claw-like gashes had been ripped into the buildings—and by buildings, I mean the lower halves that were still intact.

Across the patch of ruined rural civilization, Umbrals wandered, searching for more humans. Most were most likely gone, no doubt. Perhaps a few managed the get away from these things? Unlikely, but also unimportant.

After combing the ruined village with my eyes, I unsheathed the Glint Bladebow from my head.

"Um, Kyoku…?"

"Yeah?"

"What do you think the others find more disturbing: me appearing seemingly out of nowhere, or you Zeros' having weapons sheathed in, er…unconventional places?" Kellam asked.

I shrugged. "Dunno. I'm not the others, after all. You ready, Kellam?"

"Yeah, more or less."

"Then let's go."

* * *

"…ruined rural civilization…" - Oops. 8-/ —K


	25. Bloody Lethargic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which it turns out Morgan and Ves may have been playing longer than we have realized.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **EDIT (12/22/2016)** : Edited from original post.

#### "Bloody Lethargic"

#### Kyoku

* * *

Ugh, the trees were so depressing, they were threatening Bluefield's job.

"Unnnhh…" went the kid on my back.

I made sure to keep her from falling. (Slightly hard to do while walking.) "Rise and shine, sunny," I muttered.

"Mmm?" Morgan looked around, bleary-eyed. "Where am…?"

"On my back, ma'am," I said.

"What…?"

"Well, we're heading back to camp. You didn't come back from your sentry post, so I came to bring you back. Pretty sure a good tactician avoids sleeping on the job."

She laced her arms over my shoulders. "Oh… Whoops. Heh-heh… Dad's gonna… Oh, man…"

"Geez, you sound bloody lethargic." I looked at her face. "Have you been staying up all night or something?"

"Uhhhhh…"

"Morgan."

"Well, maybe a little. Does playing _Nidhogg_ with Vespyr count?"

I raised an eyebrow. "Oh, so _that_ was Ves. I was _wondering_ why there was a fencing game in my games library now."

"Eh-heh… Sorry about that."

"Wh—It's not your fault, kid. You're not in trouble. Unless…" My eyes narrowed. "…you broke something on my stuff and I haven't found out?"

"No, don't think so…"

"All right, then."

She still sounded bloody lethargic.


	26. The Monthly Care Package Delivery!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Dreyza and Ricken talk about their backgrounds over a breakfast mail call.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **EDIT (12/24/2016)** : Edited from original post.

#### "The Monthly Care Package Delivery!"

#### Dreyza

* * *

After finishing today's breakfast, we Zeros found out that Miriam had sent us some care packages.

Just as I was finishing up my American pancakes and syrup, a load of brown parcels with a pair of buff legs struggled through the stone doorway. "Agh… Vaike Delivery Service comin' through…!" groaned the boxes.

As soon as I saw him at the eating area entrance, my eyebrows went straight up. I thought, _Guess that's not something you see everyday, huh?_

Almost immediately, many of the Shepherds—Frederick, Sully, Stahl, Sumia—dropped their forks and knives and rushed over before Vaike could collapse from his burden, instead setting it on the floor. As they slowly picked apart the pile of parcels, I caught a glimpse of grey wrapping paper, hidden within the mound.

My eyes lit up as I raced over.

"Whoops, 'scuse me… Wh-Hey! Watch where you put stuff, Frederick!"

"Apologies, Miss Dreyza."

"Ah—sorry, Sully, gotta reach over you for _just_ a _seeeeeeeecond…_ "

"Okay…?"

"…ehhh… Got 'em! Sorry!"

After about thirty seconds of not tripping (sorry, Sumia), I made my way back to the Zeros' corner, with five boxes pressed against my chest. From the left, Blu, Trey, Vespyr, and Kyoku were all close to finishing up their meals 'round the wooden table.

Bluefield's eyebrows went up, a slice of potato hovering over his plate. "Miriam?" he guessed.

"Yep! She sent us care packages! Okay, one for big bro…" I reached his package over to him. "…one for newblood…" Trey humbly accepted the gift over his scrambled eggs. "…one for hotshot…" Vespyr took her package, grinning. "…one for coldshot…" Kyoku glared at me over his soup, but received his present without complaint. "…and one for me! Okay."

Excited, I rushed back to my seat. Setting my plate aside, I put the grey package onto the table. It was one foot in each direction, so it basically looked like a metal cube—from afar, anyway.

Which was probably why, as I tore off the wrapping paper, Ricken trotted over, intrigue etched in his face. "What are you guys up to?"

"Ah, hey, Ricken." I patted the vacant chair on my right. "Have a seat. I wonder what Miriam sent me and the other Wolves."

The mage sat down beside me. I noticed that he had in his hands an envelope sealed with red wax. "Who's Miriam?" he asked.

"Our guardian," I replied. "Blu…well, _he_ didn't need her guardianship as much as the rest of us did. Heck, he didn't meet her until he met us. But she _did_ help us adjust to 'normal life', teach us various things, keep us out of trouble while Blu was busy with his job."

"Huh." The letter in Ricken's hands seemed to wilt somewhat. "Did you guys have it rough?"

I noticed. "Nah, not really. Anyway, what about you? What'd you get today?"

"O-Oh, right." He unsealed the envelope and slid out the parchment inside. "My parents sent me a letter."

"That so? Did you let them know you're doing all right?"

The mage nodded, smiling. "Yep. Took some of [REDACTED]'s advice on it."

"Hmm. Well, I'll leave you with your letter." With that, I turned back to the package. Pulling out my combat knife from my belt, I slid its edge across the sealing tape in one smooth motion. With that done, I slid my knife back into its sheath and flipped open the flaps. "Ah, all right!"

Ricken looked over my shoulder. "What? What is it?"

Reaching in, I rustled through the goodies Miriam packaged for me and pulled out a blood-red scarf with a stark-white _D_ emblazoned on one end. "I guess Blu told her about us going through Regna Ferox. Shame we might not be going back there for a while, but hey—the thought counts, right?"

"Aw, I wish I could have one, too. It _looks_ really comfortable."

"It sure does. But does it _feel_ comfortable?" To answer that simple question, I threw my new scarf around my neck. "…Yep! It is."

"Aw… Lucky." Sounds a bit like—nope. I know he'll rage if I say it.

I chuckled. "Hey—I'll ask Blu to ask Miriam to make one for you."

Ricken's eyes brightened at that. "R-Really? You'd do that?"

"Sure. I mean—" I shrugged. "—why not?"

Bluefield piped up here. "I'll do the damn paperwork…" he groaned.

I winced inwardly. Right…there _is_ that.

But—nevermind.

Ricken nodded, then turned to read his parents' reply. "…Hm?" he paused, his fingers sliding across the parchment.

At that, I looked over. "Something wrong?"

He didn't answer immediately. Securing the letter behind the envelope, he reached inside and pulled out a few gold coins.

My eyebrows went up again. Ricken, however, was rather…what's the word Kyoku used? Ah—gobsmacked. "What?!"

I looked directly at him. "What's wrong?"

"I can't believe… They sent me some money." Ricken shook his head. "I can't keep this. I gotta send it back."

I frowned. "Why? What's the matter?"

"It's…" The mage hesitated. "Well, did Maribelle tell you about my house?"

I knew what he meant: _house_ was one short way of saying _noble family_. "Yeah, a little. Name's in disrepair and all that?"

Ricken nodded. "We're not dirt poor right now—don't get me wrong—but we don't exactly have enough for certain luxuries, either."

"Like what?" I asked.

"We had to let go of most of our household servants."

"Oh…" Wouldn't know how that feels. Sans Bluefield, we only ever had Miriam, and ourselves. And those soldiers…but they don't count. "But…can't your parents afford an occasional treat for their son, every once in a while?"

Ricken thought about that. "Hrmmm… I guess they _could…_ "

"Then what's the big deal? Here—" I reached into my backpack (minor security blanket; don't ask why) and pulled out a bag of gold bullion. "Why not send this stuff in exchange? That way, you can call it even."

He stared. "Where did you _get_ that?!"

"Risen. Last battle. Don't ask."

"B-But…are you _sure_ you're okay with giving this to my family?"

"Sure! Just—maintain that it's an _anonymous donation_ , yeah? That way, no One gets in real trouble."

That probably was a bit befuddling, but after a second, Ricken nodded. "W-Well, all right." Pocketing the gold from his family, he grasped the bag of gold for his family. "Thanks so much, Dreyza!"

"Anytime, man." I was trying really hard not to say _Anytime, kid._ or something.

Nodding—with bag and letter in hands—Ricken jumped off the chair and raced off, probably to immediately send the gold to his family.

As I got back to Miriam's gift care package, I thought, _I really hope he remembers. Anonymous donation._


	27. Skelena

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **EDIT (12/25/2016)** : Edited from original post.

#### "Skelena"

#### Bluefield

* * *

The sun began to set as I slowly approached the medical tent. It wasn't because I wanted to surprise anyOne. It wasn't become I had a limp in my leg again. I _wished_ it was.

But she was here. _Here._

I wanted to break my arm punching something again.

I wanted to go back to screaming my throat red.

I wanted to…but the "job" came first.

Lon'qu was standing guard in front of the tent entrance. He seemed bothered by something. Three guesses what. My shoulders sagged.

"Hey," I said. "Did Dreyza bring a woman here?"

The swordfighter flinched slightly before nodding. "About an hour ago," he responded. "Another Zero?"

I shook my head. "No… No, she's lucky enough not to be. Mind if I…go in there?"

Lon'qu shook his head and stepped aside. Nodding, I pulled aside the flap and passed through.

And…there she was. My heart sank.

* * *

**Recommended** : walt by Yoko Kanno

* * *

Elena was sitting upright on the second white cot on the left, the toes of her shoes resting on the ground. There was a dark-blue blood pressure monitor strapped to her upper arm, below her shirt sleeve. Kyoku was sitting on a wooden stool across from her, gazing on the monitor screen. He had a clipboard pressed against his right leg, pen just above the crisp white medical form.

_Beep-Beep! Beep-Beep!_

After almost immediately jotting down the numbers, Kyoku unwrapped the monitor from Elena's arm. "Bio-signs are all green," he noted. "Aside of some minor memory problems, you're completely healthy, ma'am."

"Oh, um, thanks, sir," Elena said, nodding.

With that, Kyoku finally saw that the patient had a (nonexistent) visitor. "…Dreyza told me a bit about her," he said to me. "So, she an acquaintance of yours in the Origin?"

I could feel my throat constricting on my windpipe organ. "…Y-Yeah," I managed. "Never met in real life, though."

"I see." Putting away the blood-pressure monitor away in his ZeroDrive—the act of which made Elena stare, and understandably so—Kyoku readjusted the clipboard as he got up onto his feet. "I'll, uh, avoid asking questions about your girlfriend, then."

**…What.**

My eyes widened in shock, as did Elena's.

"He's _not_ my boyfriend!" she exclaimed, a little horrified. Not that I can blame her; I don't think my human self is good enough.

"I'm _not_ her _boyfriend_ , you moron!" I snapped at Kyoku defensively. "She's already _got_ a special someOne!"

Elena looked at me then, surprised. Kyoku, on the other hand, looked a bit overwhelmed. Then his expression changed to something I recognized all too well—shame.

"S-Sorry," he said, deciding to drop it. On his way out, he briefly stopped next to me. "If…anything _does_ happen…let me know, okay?"

Without looking at him, I nodded, a stunned expression still across my face. "Yeah…sure."

With that, Kyoku ducked out of the tent.

An awkward silence filled the medical tent's green cloth confines.

Luckily, the cot across from Elena was vacant. I sat down on it, facing her, yet…I…couldn't bring myself to look her in the eye. Instead, I took a very keen interest in the tarp underneath my clasped hands.

An interest that lasted about five seconds.

Then Elena spoke up. "…What's Skelena?"

What? I looked up at her. She was holding out something on her wrist—an ID watch. Nowhere near as bulky as the ZeroDrive, but it still takes getting used to. "What did you say?" I inquired, confused.

Turning her arm over by about 180 degrees, Elena push a button on it. On the screen was a watch display, which quickly dissolved to show what looked like an incomplete ID card. Next to the empty photo space were:

  * _Real Name: [REDACTED]_
  * _Alt. Name: "Skelena"_



"I don't know why it says that. I mean—I _know_ my name is Elena." Her brow was furrowed, clearly troubled by this. "Why'd it change?"

"That…happens," I said. "When my school friends got pulled in, they had almost completely different names. Only similarity was the first letter or first syllable."

The woman—Skelena—looked at me in surprise. "There're more like me?"

"There _were_ ," I said bitterly. "After 2012, we all agreed it was…too risky. Now, I can't bring my friends to see these worlds anymore."

"O-Oh…" Skelena's face fell. "Are they…"

"They're alive and well," I said, my voice shaking slightly. "They'll never remember, but that might be for the best. My old colleagues, on the other hand…"

Why was I _talking_ so much? Was the guilt catching up with me again?

Dammit.

Come on, Blu.

This isn't like with Spira and the Final Aeon crap.

This isn't like with Lanzheim and the Magna Carta "sacrifice" bulls**t.

"…Dammit." I held my forehead, barely able to push through this tumultuous ocean of _feelings_ that _erupted_ within me.

"Bluefield, are you—"

Immediately, I could almost sense her hand, reaching out for my shoulder.

WHY.

 _ **"It's just not fair!"**_ I yelled, suddenly standing up. Skelena pulled back, frightened—of me, or of my outburst, or of the red-tinged tears that were threatening to fall. "You…You have a _family!_ You have a _job!_ You have someOne who you love, and that someOne _loves you back!_ Two of those things are things my human half _doesn't_ have! And now…all of those things you've got…they're in _another_ world, a _year_ away, and it's all because _something_ dragged you into _my_ problems! Problems that my human half doesn't have to deal with! I…"

At a loss for words, I sat back down, my head in my hands.

"…Why'd you get involved…?" I managed to utter.

"…Bluefield, you…don't remember…?"

I looked up at her again. "What?"

She told me.

My eyes widened. The knots in my stomach tightened; my heart had fallen down into an abyss.

"…I… Why would I…"

"But you _did_ ," Skelena said gently. "Look—what's done is done. I can't change what you—" She paused. "—what _he_ wrote. I'm here. I'm… _here_. In a place I once wrote off as…" It sounded like she still couldn't believe it.

"…fiction?" I finally managed.

"…Kinda." She chuckled, and I'll admit, I laughed a little, too. A little.

Once we finished laughing shortly thereafter, took a shaky breath. "All right…I think I'm okay for now."

Skelena nodded. "Um… What are you and your friends going to do?"

"Good question." I stood up, walked to the end of the cot. "…Okay. I'll talk with Dreyza and my…employer. First thing tomorrow. Probably gonna have to skive off Frederick's training from hell. 'till then, though, you'll be staying here for the night. I'll bring a blanket for you. If you need anything else, yell for Kyoku. You know who—"

"Yeah, the guy who gave me the check-up."

"Okay, then." With that out of the way, I made my way towards the tent flap.

"Oh, and—Bluefield?"

I looked over my shoulder. "Hm?"

Skelena smiled at me—a small, reassuring smile, just like her pen name. A reassuring smile wasted on the likes of me. "Thanks. For helping me."

I nodded. "Be sure to thank Dreyza and Kyoku, too."

And then I left.


	28. "Stage Prep" & "Perform: Stardust" (Part 1)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which:
> 
>   * the Wolves prep for the concert.
>   * the Wolves perform Startdust by Frequency. Kind of. (Part 1 of 2)
> 


**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Author's Note** : Just so you know, I edited the lyrics of the song used later in this chapter, to make it sound more natural. Kota Hoshino _does_ make some really awesome music, but I will say his English needs a bit of work. That aside, if you _do_ choose to listen to Stardust while reading, you can either imagine the Wolves singing the original or the edited lyrics.
> 
> Okay, I'll let Kyoku start talking now.
> 
>  **EDIT (12/25/2016)** : Edited from original post.

#### "Ashen Wolves' Stage Prep"

#### Kyoku

* * *

It was already evening as we were setting up.

I stepped back by a few rows of assorted chairs, facing the grand stage with a frame made out of my fingers. "Errrrr…" I uttered, squinting through.

The stage of the Ylisstol Public Outdoor Theater was decently sized. It was a baseball-diamond-esque granite platform, approximately 8 meters wide and across, with a large curve replacing one of the square's corners—leaving room for the audience to surround the performance. This still left a lot of room for a grand piano on the leftmost of the center, a drum set on the rightmost, and a few electric and/or acoustic guitars in the center, with a pair of microphones.

Behind the instruments were the pieces of sound equipment to which the guitars and microphones were connected. Behind _that_ was a meter-wide line of bushes and other things that belong in a garden. And behind _that_ was—behold!—the proper acoustics built into the stage! …By which I mean a small wall.

Okay. Anyway.

In front of the stage were four blocks of seats, side by side on a wide arc of grass. And in the center lane between those blocks of chairs stood me, trying to see it there was enough room for everyZero on the stage.

"Hey, Kyoku!" Vespyr's Cockney-ish accent rang out as she peeked her head out the piano. "This good?"

"Err, little to the left," I called back. _Ruddle, ruddle, ruddle,_ went the keyboard in the— "Wh-No, _my_ left! _My_ left! …Okay, _there_ you go." Thank goodness for pianos on rollers.

_Bshhht—!_

On my right-hand side of the stage, Bluefield got up from behind the drum set, dusting off his hands. "Okay…" Then he turned to us. "All right, all systems are a-go. Speakers, amps, wide-range Rosetta module—the works."

"All right, good," I nodded. The Rosetta module was pretty useful with speaking with those of foreign tongues. The problem was that each ZeroDrive's Rosetta module only worked for one user at a time; two people can't use one simultaneously. As a solution (sort of), Blu's employer provided us with a wide-range version of the Rosetta that works well with large crowds. The downside? It's extremely heavy and rather costly to summon…unless you're willing to temporarily _give up a freaking body part_. It'd take a fluke to explain away Vespyr's now-missing left eyeball and Blu's vanished right arm. Luckily, Dreyza had found a fashionable eyepatch for Ves to use, and Blu could use his ZeroArm instead, so that's covered.

Oh, speaking of Dreyza… "Hey, guys!" I turned to find her running down the street towards me, a metal box slung under her arm. "Finally got it!" she said with her crooked grin. "The final touch we need for the concert!"

I rolled my eyes. "I hope." _Smack._ "Ow! When'd you—"

Vespyr gave me a _toothy_ grin from _directly behind_ me. Her new one-eye shtick was a little unnerving for me—and this is coming from an a*****e who has gotten occasionally _gruesome_ kills (please. don't. ask.). Then, putting her hand down, she got a little serious. "C'mon, Kyoku. At the end of the day, it's Leader's final call. And I don't recall _you_ chipping in your two coins on that."

She had a point. Democracy can be merciless to the absent at times.

"All right," Dreyza declared, cracking open the box. "Let's set up the fireworks."

Oh, boy.

* * *

#####  **_50 72 6f 6a 65 63 74 20 42 6c 75 65 66 69 65 6c 64 20 61 66 74 65 72 20 32 30 31 32_ **

* * *

#### "Ashen Wolves Perform: Stardust" (Part 1)

#### [ N/A ]

* * *

9:14 PM, Ylisstol Time.

Applause rippled across the audience. The Shepherds cheered as the "Ashen Wolves'" last song came to a momentous stop. None of these people have ever heard such a cacophony of sounds…that somehow still _works_ as enjoyable music. Even those with rather sensitive ears (e.g. taguel hiding in the back of the crowd) found it almost _tolerable_ at worst.

As both cheers and lights died down, Dreyza approached the microphone again. "Hope you all enjoyed that piece by amazarashi!" she said.

The militia members cheered, with the more vocal soldiers—Vaike, Gregor, Nowi, Kjelle, and even Yarne—emerging as the loudest of the crowd.

"All right! Let's see what we got next!" She looked down at the touch-screen tablet at her feet. "And…ooh, it's a special one this time around! Okay, Blu, Trey! It's time; you guys're up front for this one!"

Bluefield, who was on the drums, nodded and stepped away from the drum set, sticks in hand. Trey, who was on the electric bass, looked mildly surprised before nodding. Dreyza traded her electric main with the bass, and the bass for the drum sticks.

There was a bit of murmuring among the Shepherds, wondering what was going on.

Blu strapped the bass around his neck, while Trey eyed the crowd. Neither of these two Zeros were used to being in the spotlight—Bluefield less so than Trey—but they were more than willing to do it for this one song.

"All right, uhm," Trey began, shifting his feet. "We're gonna take on an edit of another song by FreQuency."

As soon as he said that, white light formed the word _Frequency_ above the Wolves' heads. The audience wasn't as surprised as they had been when they first saw the Zeros' recreational technology at work.

Bluefield piped up, a mild grin behind his microphone: "FreQuency with a capital _Q_ in English, so you know they're serious." As soon as he said that, The lowercase _q_ in _Frequency_ flickered into _Q_.

The Shepherds did a minor double-take, before they (mostly) busted up laughing.

Then Bluefield got serious. "This one concerns the millions of lights in our night skies. This song is titled, 'Stardust'." With that, as _FreQuency_ flickered out of existence, Bluefield nodded toward his sister. Dreyza grinned, and clicked the sticks over her head.

_Click-click-click-click—_

* * *

**Mandatory** : Stardust (PV ver.) by FreQuency

* * *

As the music began—strings, keys, drums and cymbals in harmony—Trey began to sing: _"Stardust for meeee… Stardust for meeee…"_

Dreyza rolled his brother's drum sticks on the snare drum. Bluefield kept strumming the electric bass, but stayed silent as Trey continued to repeat the above line.

Oddly enough (though it didn't surprise Bluefield), the Shepherds didn't notice this odd discrepancy.

Perhaps it was because of the Zero [REDACTED].

Or perhaps it was because of the little lights that began emerging from beneath the audience's feet.

Olivia noticed first. A point of white light emerged from the grass in front of her and floated up—up—up—and in front of her _nose_. "Ahhhhh! what in the world?!"

As if snapping out of a daze, the other Shepherds looked around as a cloud of these lights began to rise up everywhere. Some people, like Ricken and Nowi, were trying in vain to catch one or two, by jumping up and down ( _typical!_ ). But as Trey began the stanza, the Shepherds' attention was more or less on the Wolves again, albeit now with a bit more vigor.

 **Trey** : _"Go on to do it"_

_"To be your mind 'n' heart"_

_"I've lost my willing, to come to this place"_

_"Sleeping in a coma"_

_"True to your mind and tears"_

_"I'll lost the heart to hold on my breath"_

_"Go on to do it"_

_"To be your mind 'n' heart"_

_"I've lost my willing, to come to this place"_

_"Sleeping in a coma"_

_"True to your mind and tears"_

_"I'll lost the heart to hold on my breath!"_

Suddenly, as the chorus began, as the "stardust" gathered above everyOne's heads, the Zero next to Trey finally started singing.

 **Trey** : _"Pray for stardust"_

 **Bluefield** : _"Go with the flow"_

 **Trey** : _"Shine it all 'round"_

 **Blu** : "Don't _believe in me anymore"_

 **Trey** : _"Pray for stardust"_

 **Blu** : _"Go with the flow"_

 **Trey** : _"Shine it all 'round"_

 **Blu** : "Don't _believe in me anymore"_

Their alternations were in great synchronicity. Their voices were almost indistinguishable. Yet something was…off…and the audience was now too busy with enjoying the song to notice what that was.

_"Stardust for me~"_

**Trey** : _"Pray for stardust"_

 **Blu** : "Don't _believe in me anymore"_

_"Stardust for me~"_

**Trey** : _"Pray for stardust"_

 **Blu** : "Don't _believe in me anymore"_

As Kyoku's piano stopped for it,?Vespyr's violin hummed as the song entered an unvoiced transition—a wide array of notes in quick succession. Blu stumbled on some of the notes for the bass, but no One seemed to care.

Dreyza began to hit the snare and tom at the same time, just as Trey started up the stanza again—and this time, not alone.

 **Trey** : _"(go on–go-go on–go-) Go on to do it"_

 **Blu** : _"To be your mind 'n' heart"_

 **Trey** : _"I've lost my willing"_

 **Blu** : _"to come to this place"_

 **Trey** : _"Sleeping in a coma"_

 **Blu** : _"True to your mind and tears"_

 **Trey** : _"I'll lost the heart to"_

 **Blu** : _"hold on my breath!"_

 **Trey** : _"Pray for stardust"_

 **Blu** : _"Go with the flow"_

 **Trey** : _"Shine it all 'round"_

 **Blu** : "Don't _believe in me anymore"_

 **Trey** : _"Pray for stardust"_

 **Blu** : _"Go with the flow"_

 **Trey** : _"Shine it all 'round"_

 **Blu** : "Don't _believe in me anymore"_

Did it dawn on the audience by now? The answer is most likely no.

Well, except fo#~^ _%9_

…

#####  _[ DATA CORRUPTED ]_


	29. Question (Part 2)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which another alternate person confronts Dreyza. (Part 1 of 2)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **EDIT (12/25/2016)** : Edited from original post. Which, unfortunately, includes a certain name.

#### "Question" (Part 2)

#### Dreyza

* * *

_Ow._ My cheek was dripping with fractures.

Wiping off the circulatory fluid, I re-gripped my sword.

The "other Morgan" grit her teeth and charged again.

The Risen around us still hadn't played the more-dishonorable card by getting in the way yet. It was really strange. Here we were, in a circle of rain-sodden grass about five meters in diameter, and no One alive or (un)dead had actually noticed us. I knew that nothing you did as a Zero would grant you any attention from the masses, but this was getting kinda weird.

By the way, the eastern edge of the circle bordered on the gap below, and my back was facing it. One meter away.

Freak my life.

_CLANG! CLANG CLANG!_

My opponent wasn't looking too good. Her dragon-skull helmet was caved in, her once-pristine armor was loose and caked in mud, and her axe was getting incredibly duller than a boulder's face. I wasn't doing any better than that, though. _You_ try fighting against a dismounted enemy with a swollen right eye, cracks forming across your skin, and the exhaustion fit to put a rhinoceros to a sixteen-hour nap.

Yeah. What a lovely day.

"Fall!" screamed the other Morgan. "Fall! In the name of Master Grima, I will slay any and all who stand in his way!"

Something inside me got fed up. _I_ got fed up. And as I got pushed towards the edge of the maw in the ground, I decided I had had enough of this crap.

"Grima this, Grima that—that's all you can think about?!" I snapped at her. "You're willing to kill _anyone_ who doesn't line up with what that 'Master' of yours has in store! You sold yourself, body and soul, to a monster that doesn't even give a _crap_ about his own minions!"

"Silence!" snarled the other Morgan. I winced as her axe push forward—pushed me back—towards the edge.

 _Bshhh—!_ The WCD crackled to life in my ear. "Dreyza, [REDACTED]'s on his way there!" _Bluefield._ "Call in GreyScale; we need you to get out of there!"

 _Right…_ I focused on one single thought: GreyScale, come to me!

"You seem to know what it is you're fighting against, kid," I managed, as I was backed up to the edge. "But answer me this: what are you fighting _for?!_ "

Her eyes widened for a split second, but narrowed again.

_He was right._

Guess reasoning as a Zero really _was_ futile.

"SILENCE!" she roared, swinging her axe overhead again.

I leaned back—over the chasm—as my sword blade shattered.

All I remember between then and my coming back out of Grey's mouth was: falling; the rain in my eyes; someOne yelling the word "HEY!" at someOne else; and a dark shape hurtling towards me from the grey, first swallowing my sword, then me.

_SLOMP!_

* * *

#### [ N/A ]

* * *

Swords and shields continued to clash—moans and shouts continued to ring out—around the brainwashed tactician.

Dreyza's opponent never noticed the dragon who "swallowed" her up. In fact, as soon as the Zero had been defeated and had fallen from her sight, the so-titled "other Morgan" was exhausted, somewhat mentally spent, and without any memory of the individual she'd just defeated. She knew that she'd fought one of those fearsome fools who had come to this world, but she didn't remember her face or her voice or the things she had said. All she knew was, it was a grueling fight, and she herself had screamed at this individual to be silent.

So tired was she that, when the otherworldly army's tactician finally reached her, she didn't notice him until he called out to her.

"HEY!"

Starting, she turned to face him, expecting another, more grueling fight. But she wasn't prepared to see _his_ face here.

"Ahh!" In shock, she almost dropped her axe with a dull thud against the mud. Almost. "Master Grima?!"

The Shepherds' tactician looked slightly taken aback. "What?"

The other Morgan raced forward. "What in the world are you doing here?!" she demanded, three paces away from him. "You must return to the Table immediately! It's not safe for you to be here!"

The tactician still looked a bit dumbfounded. "Ma'am, what in the world are you talking about?"

"It's—" The other Morgan stopped in her tracks. "Huh? Wait…you're not Master Grima?!"

"Uh, no." The tactician scratched his cheek sheepishly. "Pretty sure my name's Robin Penser, not Grima the Fell Dragon. Besides, my friends and I're here to give the good people of _this_ world a hand."

The other Morgan was shocked. Her grip on her axe tightened. "Y-You're from another world?! Then… Oh, no. This is dreadful news." She started pacing, hand on her chin. "I must alert my master that hostile reinforcements have arrived… But…"

At this, the tactician, Robin—who heard her—cocked his head. "Is something the matter?"

"That's not your concern!" The other Morgan rounded on him, indignant. "Why did you tell me you were in league with the Ylisseans? Not a sound strategy of yours, is it, sir? What if I'm the enemy? I could report your arrival, and summon more Risen to deal with you."

"Yeah, you might have a point," Robin noted thoughtfully. "You're rather-sinister helmet would be a dead giveaway. And while you might be on the other side…I've this gut feeling that you're no enemy of _mine_."

The dark tactician scoffed. "A tactician ought to base his judgments on more than a gut feeling."

Robin raised an eyebrow. "Oh? And how did you know I'm a tactician."

"I have my ways," the "other Morgan" said defensively.

To her surprise, the Shepherd… _smiled_. "You know me. Or at least, the me of this particular world. And based on your concern earlier, I'd imagine that I'm someone you care about. Correct?"

She kept her guard up. "So what if you are? I won't talk, no matter how much you torture me." (Robin winced here, as though he knew an individual who _could_ , if they _had_ to.) "I know where my allegiances lie. I trust that y—" She stopped. "That _his_ path is the correct one."

Robin's smile became slighty— _very slight_ —poignant. "I don't know what it is that this world's me is up to, but, I will say one thing: he's lucky to have you with him."

"I… Enough!" She gripped her axe, as though she were ready for a fight. Then the dull glints of tears began to form in the dark tactician's eyes. "I said that's not your concern!"

"I—" Robin stopped himself here. He sighed. "No, you're right. That's not my place to step into, after all. Here." He reached into his coat and pulled out a dog-eared leather book. "It's not much, but it's also the least I can do in way of apologizing." With that, he tossed it towards the dark tactician, who caught it in surprise.

"What…? What is this?"

"One of my favorite books," the Shepherd answered. "Details my favorite basic battle strategies. Perhaps it'll benefit someone so clearly fond of tacticians." With that, he turned to leave, back into the battle against the Risen.

"What… Wait!"

Robin stopped. "Yeah?"

"Isn't this special to you?" The "other Morgan" shook the dog-eared book in her hand. "And more importantly, aren't you worried we'll use this against you? I could end your little crusade right here and now!"

"You could. But you won't."

"What could possibly make you so sure?!"

"You remind me of someone, too. Someone very special to me." Then Robin shook his head, returning to the here and now. "Again, it's a gut feeling, but no matter what you're fighting for, I don't believe you wish me harm."

That left the dark tactician speechless. And at the same time, words from nowhere returned to her.

_You seem to know what it is you're fighting against, kid. But answer me this: what are you fighting for?!_

"Right. I need to get back to my friends. But…I'm glad that we got this chance to talk."

And with that, Robin the tactician turned and left, cutting his way through the Risen in his path.

When the "other Morgan" realized that the man who appeared to be her master was leaving—"Huh? Wait, where are you…"—he was already gone, playing a part in which he would help undo Grima's efforts.

Lost, she looked back at the book in her hand.

"…I know this book. All too well," she said. "You were the one who gave it to me in the first place." She opened up the book, flipped through a few pages. Then…she immediately shut the book, as to protect the pages from the elements.

"…I…"

She fell to her knees, taking off her helmet. Her dark-blue locks fell over her face, a curtain to her shame.

"…I can't do it. I can't keep fighting anymore. I just…" She took a shaky breath. "No matter how many of my friends I kill, I'll never be able to bring myself…to kill the kind…and gentle father…that I once knew…"

She looked skyward, against the rain. A ring of the world's teleportation magic encircled her, glowing white.

"Master Grima, forgive me… I must withdraw… I remain your servant, and am ready to accept any punishment you see fit…"

With a burst of white light, the dark tactician vanished, leaving nothing behind but the book she left beside her.

* * *

Long after the battle ended, an albino man with white hair and no arms strode along, towards the book.

Because he felt like it, he picked it up with his teeth.

"Ugh… 'amn 'ensher…" he grumbled (for once).

And, with every intention of finding that idiot, Noan turned and left the way he came.


	30. Lucky Enough to Have One - Part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Bluefield and the royal family talk about a certain something. (Part 1 of 2).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Author's Note** : Sorry I couldn't get this out in time for Christmas! D:
> 
> I will attempt to post a proper Chapter 30 later this week. Until then, this chapter, where we finally see the advisor and the prince speak with each other, should tide you over…to some degree.
> 
>  **EDIT (12/25/2016)** : Edited from original post.

#### "Lucky Enough to Have One" (Part 1)

#### Bluefield

* * *

It was snowing pretty heavily outside the castle's windows.

The library kind of reminded me of the one at Hogwarts Castle: window-high wooden bookshelves, tables in between. There were, however, some rather comfier chairs—probably meant for the winter—and I'd parked myself in one beside the window. Luckily, the library was well-lit already, so I didn't need a candle or flashlight to finish reading the Ylissean history book I had in my hands.

Standing up, I closed the book and reached up to set it back in place. With that done, I strode out from between the bookshelves, turned right, and took twenty paces towards the double doors.

 _Creeeeeeeeeeeeeeek…_ went the door.

I stepped out, stretched. "Ugh…"

"Oh, Bluefield?"

Surprised, I looked to my right. Chrom was standing before me, the pauldron of his usual attire glinting in the candlelights.

"Ah, hey, man." I looked past him. "Just you passing through?"

The prince shrugged. "Yes. It's been a day since the winter holidays began. I thought I'd look for Sumia."

"Huh. Mind if I walk with you for a bit?"

"Oh, sure."

* * *

Thank goodness the castle doesn't use torches inside. Burning pitch is…ugh.

"What are you and your fellow Wolves going to do for the holidays?"

I shrugged again. "Dunno. Maybe our employer will call us back from Ylisse. Can't say for sure, though. Vaire tends to be _obscenely_ ambiguous with timing and such."

Chrom nodded. "Er, yes. I'm not sure which is more ambiguous: 'Marth', or the twins."

"Yeah."

"But…do any of you have a family to go back to?"

Family. I was silent for about three paces.

"…Dreyza and the others can go back to the Zeros' 'barracks' or, if they so desire, their guardian's place," I said. "Miriam's raised them ever since the incident, so they'll be in good hands."

Chrom turned to me. "And what about you? Do you have a place to go?"

I shrugged again. "Yeah."

He furrowed his brow. "…Really?"

"Yes," I said, with a slight of force. "'Barracks'."

"Ah, right."

"Oh, Chrom! Here you are!"

We turned. Sumia approached us from the adjoining hallway, a small bundle of thick cloth in her arms. She was wearing a light-purple casual garb, and a pleasant smile on her face.

"Ah, Sumia." Chrom smiled as well. "Walking with Lucina, are you?"

"Yes," replied the queen. Then she noticed me. "O-Oh! Sir Bluefield!"

"Please stop calling me 'sir', ma'am," I said, wincing a bit.

"Oh, sorry."

"Avuvvah…" said the bundle of cloth.

The "?" above my head probably _couldn't_ be seen from orbit, castle notwithstanding. Only three people could've seen that.

I walked around Chrom and next to Sumia. Little Lucina was smiling, reaching out a sleeved arm to her mother's face. The Mark in her eye glinted in the candlelight. "Agah… Agah…"

Sumia looked at me, and nodded.

"Erm…" I looked towards the baby again, and waved hesitantly. "Hello~," I said.

Upon seeing me, little Lucina stopped smiling. And started crying. "Ahhhhhh!"

Sumia panicked. "Ah, oh, uh…" She started rocking the baby back and forth, while subtly stepping away from me. "Easy, Lucina! Mommy's here! Mommy's here."

 _Again, huh?_ I looked at Chrom, who looked a bit confused, and shrugged. "Guess I look scary on a regular basis."

"Don't say that, Sir Bluefield!" Sumia said. "You're not _that_ frightening!"

I shrugged. "Tend to disagree. I—"

Then I looked across the courtyard and my train of thought screeched to a stop.

 _That can't be her, can it?_ I thought as I rushed off.

"Wh-Hey! Bluefield!"

* * *

_Chrom._

_I have my doubts that you'll ever read this, let alone_ find _it to begin with, but I may as well write it down now._

_I'll get right to it: you've got a brilliant start to a new family. A significant other. A newborn bundle of joy. They may well mean the world to you; I wouldn't know. I've never had that._

_But I do have a bit of advice, from a nobody who once lost all of his colleagues years ago: don't_ ever _take your family for granted. Trust me. You'll leave_ far _too much left unsaid and undone if you do. You're lucky enough to have one, after all._

_—Bluefield_


	31. Book Club Entry #1 & Events After

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which there's a book club. Not much reading happens in it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Author's Note** : Greetings, folks! What follows is what _should_ have been Chapter 30—at least, if not for the fact that Christmas was close at hand and that I wanted to put out a Christmas special for it, even if it was belated. But, that doesn't matter right now. So, here's what _would_ have been the [the next] regular every-tenth chapter! Enjoy!

#### "Book Club Entry #1 & Events After"

#### Dreyza

* * *

"You know, I was kinda worried that this would be another 'Make Him Fall for You in a Fortnight'."

I looked at Severa. "Well, good thing there's more to literature that just romance."

We were all hanging out in the barracks—Severa, Inigo, Owain, Blu, Trey, and I—reading some books around the round wooden table. We'd all decided on doing a book club, where we'd meet every Saturday, and discuss and share the books we'd been reading. It's good fun, and it gives us all an excuse to slack off for a few hours before Frederick finds out.

Now, what were we all reading? Well, it's a rather interesting spread across genres. (Nothing that's NSFW, thankfully; we shouldn't have to bring a jug of _bleach_ and a washcloth to a damn club meeting.) Okay: first, the girls had some interesting contrasts…and some that aren't ever brought up. Severa _has_ read quite a few books, but she rarely brings them to the table; sometimes she does, and she explicitly states that they don't include romance. Me? I read fantasy-based works and science fiction. Shame Ylisseans may find that a bit hard to understand if I show them, but that doesn't mean I won't try. (Even if they'll forget once we're gone.)

Anyway.

The boys—well, _most_ of 'em, if you're counting Zeros—had favorite genres that were pretty straightforward. Inigo leaned towards books about romance, with a bit of dancing on the side. Owain enjoyed reading fantasy novels, usually with bombastic characters (hi, Markiplier) in epic situations. However, the Zeros of the demographic had a somewhat wider spread. Blu reads urban fantasy, science fiction, manga, and a lot of fanfiction for video games like  Fatal Frame, Bloodborne, Xenoblade Chronicles, etc. Trey, on the other hand, likes things like Harry Potter (just like big bro does), alternate history, and history of any description.

Okay, now that that's out of the way.

Today, Bluefield brought the first volume of **+Anima** , a fantasy manga by Natsumi Mukai. In this series, +Anima (pronounced "plus anima") are people who possess animal-like powers, but are shunned by society as a result (sounds familiar, doesn't it?). The manga follows a group of four +Anima as they try to find a place in a world that rejects anything "different".

So what did the others think of it?

Owain sniffed a little. "That's quite a beautiful story."

"Dude, we're only one chapter in," Blu said, looking up. "Or…what? You're talking about Cooro's improv?"

"Oh, uh, no! The chapter! It's the chapter that's beautiful!"

Blu gave him a half-lidded stared, as if to say, _Who's gonna buy that?_ "You don't have to lie, you know."

You tell me.

We won't spoil what happens late in this chapter, but it's the part where Cooro, the crow +Anima, visits a traveling circus and is captured after getting caught not paying to see the main attraction: "the Mermaid Princess". I'm sure you can guess what that mermaid really is.

"Huh, a shame," Inigo had also said, though he didn't seem entirely bothered by _that_. (won't say)

He was sitting across from me. Clockwise: me, Severa, Owain, Inigo, Trey, Bluefield.

Severa looked up at me. "You know," she said, "if we didn't have a resident manakete and taguel, this +Anima stuff would be very hard to believe."

"Yeah, well," I shrugged one shoulder. "If _we_ didn't have an advisor who could change into a dragon, this stuff would be _just_ hard to believe."

The red-haired merc raised one eyebrow. "Oh, really? I never saw him do that."

That's true. When we encountered her _en route_ to Valm, we never used that shapeshifting power when we dealt with her "problem".

Blu sighed, with his eyes asking me, _Again?_

I shrugged. "Just don't burn everything to the ground, okay?"

Big bro rolled his eyes. "I may be dumb at times, but not _that_ dumb. Okay…oh, boy…"

With that, he covered his head up entirely with his jacket hood.

* * *

#### Eight seconds later…

* * *

Inigo fell out of his chair as Blu removed his hood. "AGH!"

Owain dropped his copy of the manga and drew iron. "Begone, foul creature! Back, or I'll—"

I reached all the way over and _whacked_ him upside. "Cut it out, dude," I grumbled.

"Ow! Sorry…"

Blu's new (temporary) dragon head swiveled over to me (Trey scrunched tighter in his seat, slightly frightened). His eyes were still the same, but having a reptilian head with an elongated and scaled neck in place of humanoid parts was somewhat unsettling. "Again, the feeling of being a circus animal…" he sighed.

Surprisingly, Severa was the only One who hadn't reacted…as much as the others. "How can a freak like you sound the same as before?"

I stared at her. "Whoa, uncalled for!"

Blu scratched his scaly head. "Uh, thanks for the compliment," he said.

"No, it wasn't!" Sev snapped.

Looking back and forth, I groaned. "Okay, this was a dumb idea. Blu, change back."

"Rog'." Turning around, Blu retracted his neck all the way as he covered his head with his hoodie again. "Dunno why I bothered. This really hurts."

* * *

#### Four hours after the meeting…

* * *

"Gawds, how do you deal with a guy who can do that?"

I looked up at Severa. "Who, big bro?"

The merc rolled her eyes. "Duh!"

I shrugged, re-lifting the crate I grabbed from near the cargo carriage. It was meant for the mess hall, so I decided to carry it there through the campsite.

Severa followed, clearly not done. "It doesn't freak you out? That he can do crap like that?"

I shook my head. "Hey, every Zero can do stuff like that. We just don't do it often." I looked at her. "Same reason why we don't go on _wasteful shopping sprees._ "

She got this offended look on her face. "I do _not!_ Gawds…"

"You're not fooling anybody like that—One _or_ Zero," I reminded her. "I _saw_ the stuff you had your pops buy you last time. I mean, _ten tapestries?_ I'd go for ten _scarves_. What the _freak_ are you gonna do with wall cloths?"

Severa rounded on me. "What's this got to do with Bluefield?!"

I shrugged—which you'd find a bit hard to do with a heavy crate in your arms. "Look, I don't always understand what goes on inside that head of his. Probably less than I know is going on in yours. But he's still my brother, and he does care about us Wolves—even me. And last I checked, friends and family help each other out, don't they?"

Severa opened her mouth to argue, but stopped. "…you have a point…" he mumbled.

I leaned in, smiling. "Beg pardon, ma'am?"

"I said you have a point! Gawds, I'm not repeating myself!"

With that, she turned and stormed off, barely grazing Bluefield as he was passing by.

When big bro gave me a _WTH-just-happened?_ look, I shrugged and moved on.

 _Well,_ that _could've gone a bit better,_ I thought.

I don't recall her being like that while we were all reading +Anima.


	32. Lucky Enough to Have One - Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Bluefield and the royal family talk about a certain something. (Part 2 of 2).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **EDIT (12/25/2016)** : Edited from original post.

#### "Lucky Enough to Have One" (Part 2)

#### Bluefield

* * *

**Recommended** : Hunter's Dream by Ryan Amon, Bloodborne Original Soundtrack

* * *

"Didn't expect to see you back so soon."

"…" "Marth" stopped in her tracks, boot heels dull on the carpet, her back shrinking to some small degree.

I approached her from behind, stopping three paces away. "Looking to catch a glimpse of the royal newborn, I presume?"

"…How did you know I was here?" she finally said, not looking at me. "I didn't think anyone saw me."

"Well, to your credit, you snuck in here rather well again. _No_ One knew you were standing here." I swept an arm across the hallway. "That's why a Zero could've noticed you. Hence why I'm standing here now…I suppose. It's a bit wonky. Doesn't work if the intruder is hostile."

"Marth" turned to regard me. She looked about the same as she did on the night of the attempted assassination (wonder where her mask went?). Her blue eyes were slightly familiar… "…You're the one Noan badgered me about. The so-called 'advisor' to the Ashen Wolves."

That caught me off-guard. Groaning, I shook my head. "Not _One_ , ma'am. _Zero._ Easy mistake to make."

"What _is_ it with your group and semantics?"

"Hey—" I raised my hands here. "Not our fault we don't exist. It's reality."

She sighed, rubbed her temples. Then she looked out the windows to her right—my left. "…"

Following her gaze, I looked. Beyond the frosted window, the frosted glade outside, and another frosted window, was Chrom, Sumia, and little Lucina. They'd stopped being bemused by my going and got back to worrying about their daughter. Sumia was finished with bouncing her baby up and down. I presumed that little Lucina had stopped crying.

Looking back at her, I noticed something in "Marth's" left eye.

_…Oh._

Well. This is awkward.

"…Ai-yai-yai." I scratched my head. "Well, uh… I suppose I should just leave, uh, Princess."

_—WHAT THE HELL AM I DOING—_

"Marth" spun towards me, stunned. "H-How—?!"

 _I'm such a_ freaking _idiot._ I pointed to my own left eye. "…Wise choice, using a mask," I said, trying not to sound shaky. "Whoever put it together's quite the crafter."

The woman—the _princess_ —put one hand on the windowsill. "…What will you do now, sir?" she asked, sounding defeated. "Will you tell your leader? Will you tell Lord Chrom?"

I shook my head again. "No. I won't. If anyOne should tell 'em, it should be you. But only, of course, when the time comes. And I… _kinda_ doubt it's gonna come this month."

She looked up at me. "You mean…"

"Look—" I raised my hands. "Unless you're against _my_ group _or_ the Shepherds, I'll keep my lips tight about your secret. Whether you choose to keep your secret that way is completely _your_ choice. I won't touch it until _you_ decide to spill the beans."

"…I'll…assume that was a turn of phrase," said "Marth".

I shrugged. "Ah, well." I walked forward—past the windows—stopped beside the princess.

"…At least you have a family here. You're lucky enough to have one here at all."

With that, I walked away—then immediately stopped.

"Oh, and, uh, in case we don't see each other for it…" I turned. "…Happy New Year."

And with that, I left.


	33. No Means No, Nowi. No.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> No no no.

#### "No Means No, Nowi. No."

#### Kyoku

* * *

**WARNING** : the following entry involves a Zero being a d*** to a thousand-year-old dragon with ice breath. Don't expect the Zero to apologize. Yet.

* * *

"Pleeeeeeease!"

"No."

"Pleeeeeeeeeeeeeeease!"

"No." I pulled the Bladebow's string a few times.

When I go to an outdoor archery range of some description, I expect to have at maximum a 5% distraction rate from people who are using the range. I was partially correct. I just wasn't expecting a 111% distraction rate from someOne who _wasn't_.

Nowi stamped her boot on the ground. "C'mon, I want to play with you for at least ten minutes! I'll let you use your Bladebow thingamajig!"

"Why are you bothering _me_ about this?"

"I already played with your squadmates! You're the only one—"

"Zero." I eyed the target 10 meters away from me.

"Whatever! Who I haven't played with yet!"

"Well, the answer is still no." I notched an arrow.

"Please!"

"No." I aimed, pulled my right hand back.

"PLEASE!"

_WHISHT—Thunk!_

I gazed down the range at the target— _2 centimeters off-center, kinda sucks,_ I thought—before _rounding_ on the manakete.

Let me be clear: I _don't_ care how old you are, sir or ma'am. I _don't_ care what race of creature you are. I _don't_ even care what kind of _authority_ of _status_ you hold over _any_ One.

If you _act_ like a petulant brat, if you _**grate**_ my nerves in doing so, I _will_ yell at you. _Gladly._ Because you f*****g _had it coming_.

" ** _ENOUGH!_** Enough! I've had enough of your crap! Are you always like this with every One you run into, or do you save it for nobodies like us?! How Dreyza can _tolerate_ your behavior, I can't possibly _fathom_ for the _life_ of me! I can't focus on _any_ task, _play_ or _not_ , with someOne _grinding my gears_ like a ten-year-old blindly whacking a piñata! So _no_ , Nowi, I won't play with you! I'm too pissed as all hell to focus! How many times must I say it?! No means no, Nowi! **_NO!_** "

…

I don't…I don't know why I said that in particular.

The manakete had backed away. If dragons could truly cry, then the bulbs of tears forming in her eyes were testament to that.

She sniffed. Then… "WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!"

And with that, she turned tail (no pun intended) and charged off, back to the garrison, hands over eyes.

I groaned. "Dammit."

**"Well, _that_ wasn't very nice."**

Those voices.

I whirled around. Three meters away from me, at the edge of the leafy wood, stood Bluefield's—and, by extension, _our_ —employer themselves.

You know, seeing a pair of inhumanly-pale ten-year-old twins probably wouldn't scare you. But it does for me. Why? Because Vaire _never_ acts up. Vaire _never_ has a tantrum. Vaire _never even_ raises their voices.

That's a rather horrifying serenity that commands you to _keep your f*****g distance_.

"V-Vaire…" I stammered.

On the right, the boy cleared his throat, tilted his head. **"You _do_ realize that your squad leader has seen _all_ of this occur, don't you?"**

I stopped. "What?"

"That's almost what _I_ thought, too." Stepping out from behind the big tree on Vaire's left, was Dreyza herself. She sighed. "Dude, really? _That's_ how you deal with that behavior?"

On the left, the girl turned to Dreyza. **"What will you do?"**

Leader shrugged. "Not sure. Maybe I'll ask big bro for advice."

The boy shrugged, too. **"All right. It _is_ your problem, after all."**

I raised my hands. "Whoa whoa wait _what're you_ —"

The last thing I saw before passing out was a three-centimeter wide stone hurtling towards my _face_.

**_THWACK!_ **

* * *

"111% distraction rate" - Oh. Congratulations, Kyoku. You've somehow become a _worse_ Zero than I am. —Bluefield

"If dragons could truly cry" - A possible play on the English idiom "crocodile tears". A fair first-glance comparison, considering that the manakete Nowi's dragon form features a head with a long snout, much like those of alligators and crocodiles. —Vaire


	34. This Tool Is Not For Farming!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the power of the Glint Scythe is demonstrated. It horrifies people.

#### "This Tool Is Not For Farming!"

#### Trey

* * *

"Gosh," Donnel gapped, scratching the back of his head under his tin pot. "You were right 'bout your sickle, Trey!"

With a _Whoosh!_ , I set the Glint Scythe back into my neck. "I _did_ warn you, Donny," I replied gloomily.

The 5-by-7-meter field of crops we'd been raising by the garrison building were completely _ruined_ —and not merely because I specialize in decapitation. (That's a silly reason.) The stalks had browned immediately upon contact with the scythe. The wheat had rotted completely in a matter of seconds. The other tall-stalk crops had either withered away, blacked from accelerated cell decay, or turned to dust.

 _Another reminder that having a contract with the Immortal of death can make your life suck,_ I thought glumly. How Natalise made it work for _her_ , I had no idea.

Donnel turned to look at me, horrified. "How 'n tarnation d'you kill the farm?!"

I sighed. "Comes with being a 'reaper', I suppose. That's why I shouldn't have brought this thing out," I finished, pointing to my neck.

"What the hell?!"

Startled, Donnel and I whirled around to find Frederick, Kellam, and Bluefield rushing towards the farm field.

Frederick's jaw was agape at the sight of the rotted crops. "Ah…guh…nah…wh…"

Bluefield, who was standing beside him and staring at me like _What? Why would you waste it on that?_ before he turned, stared at the Wary, reached over, and smacked him upside the head.

"Agh!" Frederick turned to him. "Why did you do that?"

Don and I looked at each other, wincing.

Bluefield threw up his hands. "Are you seriously locking up about this?!" he asked. "We need to improvise. Get fruits and vegetables, _and_ seeds, from town. We _don't_ need to act like a bunch of busted grandfather clocks."

With that, he looked over at Donnel and I. "Come on, you guys. We gotta go grocery shopping."

"Wha?!" Donnel traded looks with me before responding. "But why?"

Blu stared again. "Because you and Kellam"—and here, he nodded to the invisible knight on his right—"have some experience in vegetables that people grow in Ylisse, _and_ because Trey did something incredibly dumb."

I took up an immediate interest in the dry dirt under my shoes. "…"

Bluefield sighed, but not harshly. "All right, let's go."

"Then, what do we do about that veritable mess?!" Frederick pointed again at the ruins crops.

The senior Zero glared at him. "Once we get back."

"But—"

Bluefield immediately cut him off. He snarled, "Once. We. Get. Back."

Apparently, his threat was scarier than anything else.

Figuring that we didn't have much choice in the matter, I looked at Donnel. "Well, we can't really argue with that… Let's go."

The farmer stopped, then nodded. "Yeah… All right, let's git 'er done."


	35. Don't Get Hypothermia From A Swamp

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Olivia came back from trying to see her future son dancing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Author's Note** : **_100 Reviews!_** Hooray! :D
> 
> To the people who read _T.A.A._ and sent in their feedback for this series of drabbles: thank you very much! I'm not sure if I could ever repay this; but not only will I continue [ _FEA - T.A.A._ ] for as much as possible, but I will also begin an adaptation-style crossover companion piece to it, titled _Fighting For Nothing_. If you're interested in the "Zeros" who are traveling with the Shepherds, you'll finally be able to.
> 
> Once again, thank you very much for the support and feedback!
> 
> —017Bluefield
> 
>  **EDIT (12/28/2016)** : Edited from original post.

#### "Don't Get Hypothermia From A Swamp"

#### Dreyza

* * *

Why did I learn _that_ oddly-specific lesson in particular?

Well, the Shepherds had set up their next base camp in a clearing within a foggy Valmese forest. And apparently, there was a forest swamp 1 kilometer out from the northwest camp entrance.

How did I know that?

Because while I was waiting out at that particular entrance, I saw a familiar figure, sopping wet, stumbling out from past the bend.

I narrowed my eyes to try to get a better view…before the realization rammed into me with the force of a Japanese bullet train.

"Olivia!" I raced forward, grabbing the dancer by the shoulders. "Gah, cold!" Her skin was clammy with slimy water, and her outfit wasn't looking much better. "What were you _do_ ing?! You're _soaked!_ "

Olivia looked up at me, her teeth chattering. "S-S-S-Swamp…" she managed. "D-D-D-Don't as-s-sk…"

"Uh, right. Uh, uh…ah, screw it." I reached down behind her legs and, in one swift motion, swept her off her feet.

"AH!" I think she blushed. "Put me down!"

Was I taking this a tad too seriously? Perhaps. But I ran, carrying Olivia as though I were carrying a princess out of the frying pan.

"FREDERICK!" I yelled as I barreled through the camp entrance. "WE NEED TOWELS! WE NEED DRY CLOTHES! _WE NEED HOT CHOCOLATE ASAP!_ "

…In retrospect, I must've looked ridiculous.


	36. Question (Epilouge)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The aftermath of the second battle in Doomed Ylisse.

#### "Question" (Epilogue)

#### Dreyza

* * *

Kyoku was on my right, wiping off the dragon saliva on my face when I came around. "Ah, you're awake," he said. "Didn't expect you to pull that stunt again. Nearly gave us _bloody heart attacks_."

My eyelids felt a bit heavy, but I grinned. "Nothing broken…? No limbs missing again?"

"No, just saliva and some digestive juices." Kyoku sighed. "Why we have to do this kind of crap, repeatedly, I can't imagine."

It was at this point that I felt pressure around my left hand. I turned my head.

Blu sighed in relief, loosening his grip. "Oh, thank goodness…"

Next to him, closer to my head, Trey wiped his eyes, clearly grateful that I was okay, but said nothing.

Judging from the ceiling above, we were back in the _other_ Mount Prism temple (i.e. not the "original"). The Shepherds' Outrealm mission was finished, though my question was, to what degree?

Kyoku looked up from me. "Hey, big guy. She's alright."

A low growling noise rumbled from somewhere at my upper right, and GreyScale loomed over me like an oversized and concerned mastiff, sniffing at my face.

Reaching out my right hand, I warmed his ashen snout, and he closed his eyes, mouth slightly open as though he were saying _"Ahhhhh…"_

"Good job, big guy…" I said, smiling. "Thanks."

"…Dammit, _what_ were you thinking?!"

Shocked, Bluefield and I looked at Trey. His face was contorted into relieved anger, his tears tinging to red again. It took me aback. I hadn't seen him like this since…

"Why did you nearly go all the way with your Convergences this time?!" he exclaimed. "We could have lost you, Dreyza! I… _I_ could have lost you! I…!"

He broke down in sobs, hand over eyes. And in that moment, I…I felt ashamed.

As GreyScale pulled his head away, I reached my left hand over to cup Trey's face. Shocked, he looked at me again, tears nearly forgotten.

"Sorry, Trey," I said, my voice getting stronger. "That _was_ dumb of me. I'll try not to get eaten again, leave it to Blu."

"Damn right you will, sis." Speak of the devil.

I smiled at my bro before moving to sit up. "Geez, keep forgetting how sore you get in there…"

"Guys!"

Bluefield got up, turned to face the new voice who raced over, from the crowd of Shepherds that I barely noticed. "Robby."

Nice to see you.

The brown-haired tactician breathed a sigh of relief. "Dreyza—you're all right? Thank goodness."

_**"Brave warriors."** _

GreyScale turned to look, and promptly backed away as the phantom of Naga floated towards us, her hair flowing out from behind her.

Kyoku quickly pulled me to my feet. "Easy, Leader."

I nodded. "Thanks, doc."

Naga looked to me. Her expression this time around was like the sea—hard to read. _**"Dreyza, was it? I apologize for not noticing your current state. Are you well at present?"**_

"Oh, well," I said, getting my mental footholds again, "with all due respect, Naga, I'm objectively _not_ your concern. I'll be fine."

_**"Ah… I see."** _

And thank _freak_ for that.

* * *

After one last reminder from Naga—four more kids are still in trouble, yadda yadda yadda—the portal to the Outrealm Gate "back home" was open.

I turned to Chrom, Robin and Lucina. "You're all ready to head back?"

The exalt nodded. "Yes, we are. All right, Shepherds—let's head home!"

A cry of assent rang out through the ranks, and we all took about five steps towards the portal.

We didn't get any farther because something brown and square hurtled through the air behind us and smacked against the back of Robin's head.

_BAP!_

"OW!" The tactician hunched over, covering his head, as the projectile—what appeared to be a book—flopped down in front of him. "Aghhh…" he hissed in pain.

On either side of him, exalted father and exalted daughter jumped. And off further to the side, Morgan's stunned face emerged from the crowd. "Dad!"

"Robin!" Kneeling next to him, Lucina turned to look at the apparent attacker, thirty meters away, and gripped her Falchion. _"You—!"_

"Whoa, hey!" I cut her off, raised my arm to stop her, before looking back at the a*****e responsible.

He was ghostly pale with ghostly pale hair, had red eyes, and a stark white straitjacket with the sleeves loosened. Luckily for him, he didn't need any arms to throw crap around, let alone throw it _hard_.

"Nice catch, Tacty!" called Noan.

Bluefield rushed forward. "The hell do you want, Noan?" he asked in exasperation.

"Just a delivery, sunny!" grinned the wacko. "Your enemy jus' so happened to leave _that_ behind in the rain!" Then Noan's grin turned upside-down. "Hope that book isn't ruined! _Hate_ it when people leave paper to the elements!"

And with that, he turned and ran past the pillars…where he promptly vanished.

" _HEY! You_ —oh, for _get_ it." I tossed up my hands. "Ugh…"

"Bluefield." He and I turned to find Lucina approaching us. She looked like she'd stomped away from an unpleasant argument (when are they ever not?), not from her husband. She gave big bro a hard look, who shifted. "How in the world do you _tolerate_ him, no matter where you go?" she asked.

Blu pushed up his glasses as he looked at her. "With difficulty and patience, ma'am."

"…isn't this…?"

Robin's voice cut into that conversation. Ones and Zeros alike turned to face the Shepherds' tactician, who was holding the brown book in one hand and his head in the other.

Morgan rushed over, looked over her father's shoulder. "Hey, isn't that your favorite book, Dad?"

"Y-Yeah…"

Blu and I looked at each other.

 _Later,_ he mouthed

Reluctantly, I nodded.

* * *

"…kids are still in trouble, yadda yadda yadda" - Yes, I _know_ that's not what she said. —D


	37. I'd Rather Not, Thanks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Vespyr again refuses to have tea.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Author's Note** : Big news - I've started a new FEA/Project Bluefield fanfic, titled [**_Fighting For Nothing - Fire Emblem Awakening_**](http://archiveofourown.org/works/8541169/chapters/19581112). This follows the Zeros' journey with the Shepherds throughout the Ylisse-Plegian War, the Conquest of Valm, and the fate of the world. If you're interested in this, feel free to give _Fighting For Nothing - FEA_ a look.
> 
> Thanks again for the support! I will now let Vespyr say her piece.
> 
> —017Bluefield
> 
>  **EDIT (12/30/2016)** : Edited from original post.

#### "I'd Rather Not, Thanks"

#### Vespyr

* * *

For some reason, Maribelle was rather shocked. "Why not?!"

We were hanging out with a few other Shepherds at the local café, where we'd decided to net ourselves a quick lunch. Maribelle and I had taken our seats across from each other at one of the tables, and she'd offered to get me some tea. She knew a few good teas that this place was well-liked for.

Naturally, I refused.

I raised my hands. "Hey, I'm not invalidating your opinion or anything, and I'm _certainly_ not insulting you for liking tea. I'm just part of a minority that's not into tea at all."

Though she didn't look _quite_ as scandalized when I told her I don't like _tea_ , the noblewoman eased off. "W-Well, _why_ don't you drink it? It's something of a mark of propriety!"

"It is? Was that taught at etiquette school or something?"

"Why yes, it was and still is."

Maybe for some, it's like how people deal with the American driving test. But I wouldn't know. Blu and Vaire told me as much about it, but not about tea. Not that I would blame them. Blu doesn't drink tea either, and I never asked—

Wait, tangent. Back on topic.

"Well, good for you, Maribelle," I said. "But, let's be completely honest with ourselves: I'm not exactly the most _cultered_ of individuals, am I? Far from, actually. And"—I held up an index finger here—" _don't_ bother trying to start."

Maribelle looked confused. "Start what?"

At that moment, the waiter (I'm assuming _that's_ what Ylissean café waiters look like in general) strode out and over to us. "Good afternoon, ladies," she said. "Can I take your orders?"

"Ah, right." I looked at the parchment menu. "I'll have…the grilled salmon with potatoes and a glass of water."

"I see." _Scratch scratch scratch_ against her own parchment. "And what will you have, Lady Maribelle?"

"Oh! I shall take…hm…your finest elderberry tea with crumpets and butter."

More _scratch scratch scratch_. "Right, it'll be but a few moments."

As the waiter left, I looked back at Maribelle. "Still not taking impromptu etiquette classes."

"Oh. Well, that's rather a shame."

And, on an unrelated note, I'm _still_ not drinking tea. Go figure, goes the American saying.

* * *

"part of the minority" - In a theoretical group of 3 people, if 2 people like something, the remaining 1 person who doesn't becomes the minority, making up 33%. If 1 Zero were to join the minority, the minority would still consist of 33% (1 One + 1 Zero). —Vaire


	38. Not Again…

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the Umbrals strike while the Zeros are away. (Part 1 of 2)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Author's Note** : Sorry for being a bit too short for my own liking. :(
> 
> **EDIT (1/19/2016)** : Adding to/making less disparate in the same document.

#### "Not Again…"

#### Trey

* * *

"Well done, Shepherds and Wolves," Chrom said. "This village shouldn't have any more Risen or Umbrals plaguing them anytime soon. Let's head back."

We all let out a noise of assent before heading back in the direction of the Shepherds' camp.

Breathing a sigh of relief, I set my scythe back into its sheath.

Behind me, I heard someOne shudder, along with hoofsteps. I turned to find a familiar face.

"Y'know, no matter _how_ many times I see you guys do that, I _never_ get used to it," said Sully, a hint of nausea from the sight apparent on her visage.

I shrugged. "It's not _as_ gut-wrenching as it used to be, ma'am. But, that's neither here nor there. Is your leg doing okay?"

The knight stretched out her left leg, rotating her foot. "Good as new," she replied. "You guys have some strange ways of patching people up."

"First time I heard someOne say that."

* * *

#### In the interest of time…

* * *

_Zzzzzzzzip!_ "Comin' in!"

I looked up from Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix towards the tent flap. In came Dreyza and Bluefield, looking as though they'd lost their wallets and were tearing up the camp to find them.

Dreyza rushed over, grabbed my shoulders. "Trey," she gasped, "have you seen…any of the Shells?"

"Wh-What?"

"We asked Chrom and Frederick, but they don't know where she is."

I held up my hands. "Whoa, s-slow down. What's this about?"

Blu walked over to me. He looked worried. "It's Skelena. She's gone missing."

"What? But—" My throat constricted. "Wait a…did she leave the camp while we were gone?!"

"Well, she wouldn't have—"

But I never learned what Dreyza thought Skelena "wouldn't have", because at that badly-timed moment, a piercing scream shot into the air.

_"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH!"_

Without a second thought, we dropped everything and raced out of the tent.

* * *

**_73 6d 69 6c 65 70 6c 65 61 73 65 39 31 2c 20 77 68 65 72 65 20 61 72 65 20 79 6f 75 3f_ **


	39. Perform: Stardust - Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the Wolves perform Startdust by Frequency. Kind of. (Part 2 of 2)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Author's Note** : Before we begin/continue, I'd like to take a moment to give my condolences to **smileplease91** , who, on January 20th this year, has lost her uncle. Rest in peace, sir. And an all-too-brief message to smile herself: _You are not alone._
> 
>  **EDITED (12/30/2016)** : Modified from original post.

#### "Ashen Wolves Perform: Stardust" (Part 2)

#### [ N/A ]

* * *

 **Mandatory** : Stardust (PV ver.) by FreQuency

Start at 2:05

* * *

_"Stardust for meeee… Stardust for meeee…"_

Trey started singing the above line again, this time in the bridge, when Dreyza let off on the drums (to some degree).

At the same time, the Shepherds gasped as the holographic stardust landed behind the Wolves. It was hard not to see why, however, considering that the stardust had molded itself into the shape of a _large dragon_.

As Trey continued to sing, the holographic dragon above his head stretched its neck as if it had just woken up. It then "opened its eyes"—or rather, two blue lights flashed open in its head—and lazily gazed over these interesting people that it found itself close to.

Then, as Dreyza went back onto beating the drums, a mass of glowing light from behind caused the audience to look behind them, and the dragon to look up ahead. There were a few yelps of surprise, see that there was now a _glowing, blobby two-story giant_ rising to its feet behind them.

Just roll with it.

It was probably a good thing no One had brought their weapons to the concert. Panic gets worse with armed individuals.

Kyoku and Vespyr got into high gear. The dragon looked at the giant and snarled.

It then proceeded to hurtle itself towards its apparent opponent, spreading its wings in mid-leap.

"Ahh!" "Oh my gods!" "Whoa!" went the Shepherds.

The Ashen Wolves, on the other hand, were completely unfazed. Trey and Blu started singing again.

 **Trey** : _"Go on to do it"_

 **Blu** : _"To be your mind 'n' heart"_

 **Trey** : _"I've lost my willing"_

 **Blu** : _"to come to this place"_

The dragon closed its jaws over the giant's blobby throat, and…proceeded to fly around and around over the audience, prey in tow.

 **Trey** : _"Sleeping in a coma"_

 **Blu** : _"True to your mind and tears"_

 **Trey** : _"I've lost the heart to"_

 **Blu** : _"hold on my breath!"_

The dragon took one more aerial lap around the stage before swinging itself skyward.

 **Trey** : _"Pray for stardust"_

 **Blu** : _"Go with the flow"_

 **Trey** : _"Shine it all 'round"_

 **Blu** : "Don't _believe in me anymore"_

As it ascended, the dragon suddenly simultaneously hit its natural air brakes (its wings) and opened its mouth.

 **Trey** : _"Pray for stardust"_

 **Blu** : _"Go with the flow"_

 **Trey** : _"Shine it all 'round"_

 **Blu** : "Don't _believe in me anymore"_

As the giant hurtled away, high over the stage, stardust gathered in front of the dragon's open mouth, converging into a sphere of light.

_"Stardust for me~"_

**Trey** : _"Pray for stardust"_

 **Blu** : "Don't _believe in me anymore"_

With one last flap of its wings, the dragon fired its stardust beam, hitting the giant and blowing it up into a million dots of far-flung stardust, showering both seats and stage far below.

_"Stardust for me~"_

**Trey** : _"Pray for stardust"_

 **Blu** : "Don't _believe in me anymore"_

As Vespyr began her last violin lines, stroking the strings with her bow, the dragon looked down at the audience. Then it gave out an unearthly roar as it shattered into stardust as well, its blue eyes dying out into the dark beyond.

And as the violinist finished among the stars, Trey finished the song, swinging his pick upward.

A stunned silence settled in.

The Shepherds were floored by the (admittedly messy) spectacle. Then someOne started applauding.

Chrom stood up, clapping his hands, a smile slowly growing over his face. Next to him, Sumia got up to join him, completely taken aback but still exhilarated. Then two clappers became five, five became seventeen, and before the reader knew it, the entirety of the Shepherds were giving the Ashen Wolves a standing ovation.

Kyoku got up from the piano and, with Dreyza and Vespyr, walked to the front of the stage, where all five Zeros took a low bow.

Only one Shepherd was somewhat late to the applause.

Understandable, considering what he realized about this performance.


	40. Book Club Entry #2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which another Book Club meeting happens. The large ham appears.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Author's Note** : Sorry this took so long!
> 
> Before I let Trey say his piece, I'd like to tell you my plans for this fic. I'll continue to _regularly_ update _Talking About Anything - Fire Emblem Awakening_ up until Chapter 50, after which I'll focus on other _Project Bluefield_ works. This certainly doesn't mean that I'll abandon this fic; it simply means that I won't focus on it _as_ much as the other games I want to do _Talking About Anything_ and _Fighting For Nothing_ fics for. Please understand: I'm only one idiot, and I can only do so much on my own.
> 
> Now, with that being said, I hope you enjoy the book club shenanigans. :)
> 
>  **EDITED (12/31/2016)** : Modified from original post.

#### "Book Club Entry #2"

#### Trey

* * *

Owain raised his eyebrows. "This Hamlet is quite a vengeful fellow."

"And tragically so," Bluefield had agreed.

Today, we'd decided to read a novelized collection of William Shakespeare's plays. We'd already read Romeo & Juliet, which left Inigo stunned and Severa…I didn't actually see her face change. It's not that she's impassive or anything; she just rolled her eyes that the star-crossed lovers messed up bad enough to commit suicide, one after the other. We'd also read Hamlet (which Owain and Bluefield just mentioned above), and it was rather depressing.

Now we were talking about what we'd finished reading—which was quite a lot.

"To think that Sir Romeo suffered through so much, that his death was all for naught… Ngh!" Owain suddenly clutched his right hand, as if he were in pain. "It's just… Agh, my hand…! _Can't…control…!_ "

Severa rolled her eyes for the umpteenth time today. "Oh, for gawds' sakes…"

Bluefield shook his head, but with a small smile, as if he'd dealt with—ahem, excuse me—"this s**t" before.

Dreyza, by contrast, played along with the royal cousin. "Be still, O sword hand of Sir Owain," she declared, getting to her feet, bumping the table, "or the _rest shall be silence!_ "

"Agh! It's…too late, Lady Dreyza! You must all… _run!_ While you still can!"

Thankfully, he wasn't _entirely_ serious, 'cause we'd all be in trouble.

Dreyza then grinned. "I'll go get your mom, then!"

Owain's reaction was so priceless, even I was laughing. Severa was the only One who settled for rolling her eyes (again), and Bluefield was the only Zero who was just chuckling and not laughing.

"Okay—Okay," he said, "I think we can do the role-playing _after_ this. Jus'…calm down, okay?"

"That _was_ entertaining, though," I put in, as Dreyza and Owain got back in their seats. "Impractical for the battlefield, but definitely entertaining."

I should've expected him to be somewhat offended by that statement.

"Oh, my dear comrade Trey, it's not meant to be entertaining!"

What.

I… _did_ not expect that.

I scratched my head. "Well, what _is_ it supposed to be?"

Owain puffed out his chest…which somehow _wasn't_ as impactful as when he was doing it standing up. "To intimidate the enemy! Nothing is scarier than self-impro—eh, I mean, authentic inner conflict!"

"Are you sure?" I asked. "Because whenever I pull out my scythe, brigands and soldiers alike tend to run away from me in terror."

"Uh, Trey?" Bluefield elbowed my left arm. "You _kinda_ have the unfair advantage of being, to them, a living embodiment of _Death_."

"Oh…right," I chuckled sheepishly. "I won't tell Skulden you said that." Turned back to Owain. "Well, I guess I'm an unintentional cheat, in that regard."

The prince sighed. "Hmm. It seems I've discovered something of a rival in you, Trey of Death!"

I smiled, in spite of myself. "I'll try to keep up, 'Sir Owain Dark'."

Severa sighed—not as much as her mother, but nevermind. "Does anyone else actually do this kind of thing seriously?"

"Well, I dunno about any _One_ , but there's me and Blu," Dreyza said as she thumbed her brother.

"Uh, gee, thanks."

Severa rolled her eyes. "Of course."

* * *

"this s**t" - Probably a good thing you weren't around before 2012, Trey. —Burna

"…self-impro—eh, I mean, authentic inner conflict!" - He'd make a pretty competent author or playwright. Hopefully, he can learn how to best convey his ideas. —Bluefield


	41. WHAT DO I DO

#### "WHAT DO I DO"

#### Trey

* * *

"…What are you doing here?"

The new voice jolted me awake from my jean-covered knees, tears streaming down.

Towering above me was the shapeshifting woman—Pan, I think? …no, wait, it was "Panne". She'd found me sleeping beside the garrison building, behind some crates.

She also didn't look very happy. But, then again…during and after the assassination attempt against the exalt, I only saw her smile _once_. The rest of the time, she was mildly sour about working with the Shepherds.

Anyway…

I wiped my eyes. "I, um…well…fell asleep. Didn't get enough last night."

That wasn't a lie, and apparently, the taguel decided as much. "I'd imagine," she finally said. "But that doesn't explain why you—whatever kind of entity you are—would choose to sleep in a place like this."

She had two good points there. "It was away from all the noise today."

Panne tilted her head to one side. "Are you sure? I can still hear the man-spawn eating and speaking from here."

I shrugged. "Well, _I_ don't. Guess being a Zero doesn't mean I have a greater sense of hearing."

Silence. I looked up from the dirt. Panne was studying my face.

Then came the question I was hoping she wouldn't ask: "…Did you…have a bad dream?"

I pressed my lips together. "…"

_WhatdoIdoWhatdoIdoWHATDOIDO—_

Her eyes narrowed.

I sighed, defeated.

"…No. I didn't."

Silence followed my answer. My hearts pounded in my chest, like the many pistons in a car's engine.

Yes, I had lied to her.

For good reason, true, but I had still lied to her.

After what felt like an eternity, the taguel opened her mouth. I braced myself.

"Well, I don't have any reason to disbelieve you."

Wait.

Outwardly, my face didn't change. But inwardly…

_Did…Did she just believe my lie?_

"Hey, Panne!" Dreyza.

The taguel looked to her right and, with a mildly sour look on her face, turned and walked in the other direction.

"Hey! I[t]—oh…"

Dreyza stopped directly in front of me, a little…what was it? Disheartened by the taguel's obvious wish to be left alone.

Her hand dropped to her side. Then she noticed me.

"Oh, Trey." She walked over to me. "Are you okay? Were you oversleeping?"

I looked up at her. I still had traces of tears on my cheeks.

She tensed up. "…Another death dream?"

Wordlessly, I held out my left hand. Understanding my intentions, Dreyza laced her fingers between mine and clasped.

I gripped her hand—and in that moment, one question passed from me to her—

_How do I tell her that I saw her warren die?_


	42. Limbs And Voices, Taken (Away)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the Risen nearly claim another victim, and a reanimated severed head starts screaming.

**Author's Note** : Good gods, life just _isn't_ letting _up_ for **smileplease91** recently. Losing a family member, getting injured, losing neighbors in a car accident, getting the flu… My heart goes out to her and her family—including her younger brother, who was good friends with one of the aforementioned car accident victims—and I hope things start to take a turn for the better for them.

I wish I could do something better.

* * *

#### "Limbs And Voices, Taken (Away)"

#### Trey

* * *

The _very_ human scream rang through the forest when we saw them.

_"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH!"_

"Oh, _freak!_ " swore Blu, as we all drew our weapons. "No!"

The person that Leader had brought back—Skelena—was struggling to crawl away from something. Her face was contorted with pain, as if she'd been through torture. There was something red on her leg.

Then the brush shifted, and I saw what was already in plain sight. _"Graaaargh…"_

Two Risen, both shambling, axes in their gnarled hands. One of those axes were already bloodied.

My throat tightened as I drew my scythe.

"Skelena!" Dreyza shot forward, past me, 21 meters, past the wounded Shell, and swung horizontal.

_SHLOCK! SHLOCK!_

2 seconds later, the undeads' torsos fell to the ground.

Dreyza kicked their legs away as the Risen disintegrated into the foul mist. "Oh, nonononononononono…" She rushed over to Skelena's side.

"…Ah…AGH, ah…!" Skelena hissed in pain as Dreyza turned her onto her back. "My…My leg…!"

I rushed over, and my stomach organs clenched. Below her right kneecap, her entire leg was [ REDACTED REDACTED REDACTED REDACTED ]. [ REDACTED REDACTED REDACTED ]. [ REDACTED REDACTED REDACTED REDACTED ].

I tried not to vomit.

"Skelena!" Dropping his sword onto the ground, Bluefield rushed over. His expression gave out one message: _Nonononono, not again…!_ "What the hell _happened_ to you?!"

She stopped between pained gasps. "I…I thought I heard…[ REDACTED ]'s voice… He called to me…ah, ah, AGH!" She tried not to touch the bloodied stump. "Oh, god!"

"Whoa, whoa, easy! You're _gonna_ be okay, Skelena! Don't touch it; you're _gonna_ be okay!" Bluefield turned to Dreyza. "Take her to medical; get her to Maribelle and Kyoku _now!_ "

"R-Right!" Leader slid her hands underneath Skelena's form. "Okay, okay, hang on to me, okay? I'm gonna get you medical treatment."

Skel nodded as Dreyza picked her up, bridal style. "Ahh! Okay… Okay, just… _hurry—! Agh…!_ "

I couldn't imagine how Skelena was feeling at that moment, as Dreyza rushed off to get her to help. Just like how I couldn't imagine how Bluefield felt from suffering dismemberment on a regular basis. Just like how I couldn't imagine how Alexis could handle being an amputee.

I hoped Maribelle and Kyoku could help her as best they could.

I turned to look at Bluefield. "Why are we standing here?"

He gave me a shaken look. "She said she heard [ REDACTED ]'s voice calling to her. Which is impossible."

He turned back to where Skelena was crawling. "…Unless there's _that._ "

I followed his gaze. "… _What the—?!_ "

 _"Graaaaaragh…"_ growled the lone Risen's head.

Somehow, only its rotting cranial limb was, for some reason, still around. Without a body it could inhabit, it resorted to growling like a rabid dog.

Bluefield slowly stepped forward, picking up his ZeroSword on the way. "Come on."

"Wh-What?!"

"I don't like it either, but…you _gotta_ know what this Umbral is."

"Wait"—pointed at the head—" _that's_ an Umbral?!"

"You'll see it. Don't worry"—he held his sword backwards, aimed to stab down into the bodyless head—"I'll make sure it doesn't get you, okay?"

I hesitated. Then, sheathing my scythe, I approached the undead _thing_.

I'd rarely gotten the chance to see a Risen's face up close. Its helmet was falling apart. Its nose had been ripped off, leaving a useless stump. Its teeth were rotting brown and—

 _Wait a second,_ I thought as I got down on one knee and looked closer, well away from Bluefield's sword. _Is that_ sludge _in its mouth?_

No sooner had those thoughts come up, than the black sludge erupted from the mouth, the dead eyes, the nose stump. I fell backward as the sludge covered its face, creating a new face with a hooked nose.

And it screeched.

_**"I NEVER WANT TO SEE YOU AGA—"** _

_STAB,_ went Bluefield's sword. _Stab, stab, stab._

Silence.

All I could think of was, I recognized that voice. She _never_ screamed, but there's no way I'd _ever_ mistake that voice.

Miriam. The woman who looked after us. One of the kindest people I know.

Bluefield was breathing heavily. Beads of sweat on his forehead. He wrenched his sword from the disintegrating head, its newfound "voice" silenced.

"S**t…" he gasped. No telling what _he'd_ heard from the Umbral. "Well…now we know that we've got Wendigs moping around."

"That's what it was…? A Wendig?"

Bluefield nodded. He then stood up. "Guess I've gotta have a serious discussion with Chrom and Frederick. They gotta know we've got a new problem." Sigh. "Okay… Trey, you, you go on back to camp. I'll catch up with you."

"Then what…what are you going to do?"

Bluefield gave me a glum _This-is-gonna-suck_ look. "Skelena left her right leg behind. What do you think?"

* * *

"Then, sheathing my scythe, I approached the undead _thing_." - Before you call him an idiot for doing that, let me ask you something: what makes you think Trey had enough elbow room to wield a weapon of that size with an Umbral that small? —Burna

"Wendig" - An Umbral Form with some similarities with the wendigo, _especially_ its ability to mimic human voices. —Vaire


	43. A Better Dog Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which a dog (re?)appears. And Henry is his usual dog-loving self.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Author's Note** : Good grief, _Fire Emblem Fates_ has been quite a distraction. I finished _Birthright_ a few days ago, and am currently on _Conquest_. And am realizing that it feels like _Fire Emblem: The Sacred Stones_. Oh, dear god. …or something.
> 
> Sorry if this seems a bit short. :(

#### "A Better Dog Day"

#### Kyoku

* * *

_Wroof! Wroof!_

"Nyah ha ha! That tickles!"

I don't think I've really ever seen Henry _genuinely happy_ since we met at Carrion Isle. Sure, he only naturally smiles _all_ the freaking time, but that's only because he doesn't know other emotions.

…I guess…

But today's mild surprise came when, at lunch today, a _very_ familiar hybrid dog raced into the mess hall at the garrison and came to our table. And licked my face.

"Yes, yes, it's nice to see you, too, Reben," I'd grumbled, though it honestly _was_ nice to see him.

Anyway, Reben had decided to lick the Shepherds' resident sociopath's face, and the guy was really enjoying it. If I hadn't known that he's been pretty much raised by animals in his youth (how does _that_ work, anyway?!), I'd have been more surprised than I was.

"Hey, Kyo-kun."

Henry using that nickname on me both broke me out of my thoughts and made me scowl. _Thanks a lot, Ves._ "Yeah?"

"Is this your dog?" Reben now had both front paws on Henry's leg. "He's really nice!"

I sighed. "He used to be my big sister's dog. Then Bluefield inherited him, but…he had to leave him with a friend of his."

"What?" That surprised the Plegian mage. "Why'd he do that?"

"Hey, don't get me wrong," I stopped him, hands up ( _I'm_ defending _that arse***e?_ , I thought). "He _does_ care about Reben. Which is _precisely_ why he left him with his friend. He probably wouldn't be able to forgive himself for getting his dog killed. I mean, _maybe_ you can relate."

Henry tilted his head. "I can?"

I nodded. "You had a best friend in a giant wolf, right? When those hunters killed the wolf, what did _you_ feel?"

Yes, I'm not the best at asking this kind of therapeutic s**t. But hey—I'd already asked.

Henry paused. "Mmm…" No, _not_ the "yummy!" Mmm; the "thinking…" Mmm. "…I…don't remember, actually. I just know that, when they did that, I made them pay afterwards. With blood." He stopped, then smiled. "Mmm, blood…"

Okay, _that_ Mmm was the "yummy!" version. I scratched the back of my head. _Guess I can't really do anything about his mental state. Oh, well._ "Sooooo…you cared about that wolf, huh?"

"Yeah! Sure I did!"

"Then you know exactly what Bluefield _doesn't_ want to go through with _him_." I reached out to pet Reben, his tongue hanging out with panting. "Reben _can_ take care of himself, but…"

 _Wroof!_ protested Reben. _Wroof!_

"Hey, now," I warned. "You're lucky that your back leg healed at all, all right?"

Reben wimpered, laying his head in Henry's lap.

 _Oops._ Maybe I had some semblance of dominance that Chisari had.

* * *

"Kyo-kun" - Don't…ask. x( —Kyoku


	44. I'm Awful At This

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Trey's masterful culinary skill is displayed.

#### "I'm Awful At This"

#### Trey

* * *

Sometimes, I wonder why the "illegal military training" that we Wolves (sans Bluefield, of course) got was randomized.

 _Why do you say that?_ Well, I usually come to this train of thought when I fail to do something that's probably _basic_ by human standards—for example, making beef stew for lunch.

Which I _did_ fail again today, by the way.

Cherche peered into the stainless steel pot. "Oh, my…"

"Yeah," I nodded glumly. Hard not to be glum, when this is the _third time_ making the stew and the mess hall's kitchen smells like there is something on fire.

"Well, Trey, it looks…almost edible, compared to the last batch," the wyvern rider offered.

I wiped the sweat off my brow. "I guess _that's_ something…"

_Good grief, my cooking skills are at rock bottom._

I turned to look at Cherche. "Sorry for wasting your time, ma'am…"

"What? Oh, no, it's not a problem for me at all!" Then Cherche frowned. "Though, I _am_ curious. Trey, why _do_ you want to learn how to cook?"

"Huh?" I honestly hadn't expected her to ask me that. I scratched the back of my head, looking at the floor. "Uh, well…"

 _Why_ do _I, anyway?_

Then I remembered. "…Because of Bluefield."

Cherche raised her eyebrows, surprised. "Your mentor?"

"Yeah. Well… This might seem a bit silly, but he's also the only Zero of us who can cook at all. And the stuff he makes is delicious and not…" Glanced at the cooking pot. "Yeah."

Cherche nodded. "Ah, so you're seeking to repay him for the meals he makes you?"

"Oh… I-I guess so." She'd cottoned on faster than I myself had. Not that I was entirely surprised, being slow on how human empathy worked.

With that revelation out of the way, Cherche clapped her hands. "Well, if that's the case, why don't we start with something basic instead?"

I blinked. "Oh, uh, all right. But,"—and here I picked up the ruined stew—"let me dispose of this stuff first."

"All right. But don't try feeding it to Minervykins," the wyvern rider replied.

I wisely chose not to see her smile. "I won't, don't worry."

* * *

"illegal military training" - At this point, we believe that the perpetrators used some form of virtual training to "prepare the Zeros' siblings". It's rather fortunate that Bluefield liberated them before the the training was completed. —Vaire

"don't try feeding it to Minervykins" - I think her Minerva would settle for eating a cow or something, anyway, and definitely not stew. —Bluefield


	45. Sir, Meet Candy Bar

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which we learn just how Dreyza met Gaius before the assassination attempt.

#### "Sir, Meet Candy Bar"

#### Dreyza

* * *

_User's Note: I think you can already see where this is going._

As I sat out on the bench in the street, I peeled apart the Twix wrapper, grabbed the (left?/right?) candy bar, and munched down on it.

I looked around as I crunched. Ylisstol was looking relatively sunny today (good thing Blu wasn't outside today). Birds soared lazily overhead. One of them dumped their crap on some poor sap's head. A group of Ylissean children were playing with a ball out on the side of the road, laughing and shouting to each other.

They never once payed any mind to the nobody with the modern clothes and the candy bar sitting on the bench.

Sometimes, I had to chuckle about being a Zero. Theoretically, as a Zero, you can dance in public like an utter dumbass, and no One will retain any short-term memory of that embarrassing event. Of course, it's all a bit… _iffy_. Back in Luxendarc, I'd run into folks who _would_ actually remember seeing me and the other Wolves before. That said, those folks have _also_ tried to kill us and our charges, but yeah.

In retrospect, on that day in Ylisstol, I should have seen it coming again.

…The event that usually precedes the _AHHHH!-You're-_ THAT _-guy!_ moment, I mean.

"Ermm… 'scuse me, ma'am?"

Surprised, I looked to my left.

Standing there was a guy in a light-brown cloak. The hood of said cloak was down, showing a mop of orange hair, a black headband, and a white stick (in retrospect, a lollipop?) sticking out of his mouth. His black eyes were stuck on my other Twix bar, as if it had him transfixed.

I looked between the local man and the candy bar. "Eh, yes?" I asked, right hand drifting slooooooowly to the bench, then my right knee. (Thank freak for knive holsters strapped to the leg.)

I'd only gotten to Objective Bench _after_ the man answered, snapping out of some reverie. "Um, c-can I ask which bakery you bought that sweet from?"

Glancing at the uneaten bar still in my hand, I finished with the one in my mouth. "This? Oh, well…"

 _Ugh, what do I do?_ I decided to make something up.

"A man from Mars sold it to me."

I wanted to kill myself in the brain organ. Without fracturing anything.

Orange Hair cocks his head to a side, eyebrow raised. "Wait, I'm sorry—a man from _Marth?_ "

Gods, what _is_ it with similar-sounding words? "No, I said Mar _s_. S at the end."

"Oh, uh, okay." I guess he was wondering, _A guy from_ the _Marth?_

I slipped my hand from bench to knee, but I was somewhat doubting the chances that this guy was planning to shank a "bystander".

But…judging by the look on his face, I'd imagine the sweet item in my hand was far more interesting to him.

I held out my uneaten Twix bar. "Want it?"

Orange Hair's face lit up. "R-Really?! You're just gonna give it to me?"

"Yep. Now,"—and here I pulled the bar out of its wrapper—"catch."

He did. Then, he put it in his mouth, fumbled with something on his belt, and left some gold coins in my lap. "Fhanks!" he exclaimed.

And then he was gone. Kinda like a ninja.

 _…Well,_ I thought. Stuffing the wrapper into my pocket, I lean back on the bench.

I still don't let my hand off my knife until I get back to the garrison.

* * *

#### [ N/A ]

* * *

As soon as he'd finished eating the foreign confection of some description, Gaius the thief forgot about both 017-R "Dreyza" and the candy bar he just ate. It wouldn't be until the initial assassination attempt on Exalt Emmeryn, the next night, that Gaius would encounter—and remember—the Zero.

* * *

"Back in Luxendarc…" - Let us save the details of your first true mission for another time, shall we, Ashen Wolves? —Vaire

* I hear ya… —Dreyza

* No argument there. —Kyoku

* Meh. —Blu

"…man from _Marth?_ " - We have records from [ REDACTED ] that the natives tend to confuse the word Mars with the name of their "Hero-King". The only One who wasn't confused between these words was Prince Marth himself. —Vaire

"Stuffing the wrapper into my pocket" - One of the Zeros multiple responsibilities includes: DO NOT LITTER WITH OTHERWORLDLY GARBAGE. _Ever._ —Vaire


	46. Ashen Wolves Perform: Stardust - Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the concert's already over.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **WARNING** : Strong language hidden in code at the end here. Read at your own risk. I warned you. —Blu
> 
>  **EDIT (3/22/2017)** : Edited from original post.

#### "Perform: Stardust - Epilogue" (previously titled: "Pay No Attention To The SUV")

#### Bluefield

* * *

This happened while we Wolves were in the middle of putting our stuff for the concert away.

I was packing my drums into the back of the SUV, my right arm still feeling a bit weak, when a voice piped up behind me. "You were singing for that song for a reason, weren't you, sir?"

I turned to find Ylisse's renowned tactician himself approaching me over the grass. This clearing, behind some buildings at the edge of town, was the closest we could A) park to the outdoor theater, and B) move all the instruments and gear through the alleyways. It was also well away from the main road (as we usually find), so no civvies were gonna bother to notice the metal horseless carriage and the tactician approaching it.

Robin looked from me to the grey SUV—a startling contrast to the society it didn't belong in. (Then again, we Wolves don't belong here either, but I digress.)

"You know, I never get used to seeing these things," he commented. He laid a hand on the edge of the trunk door opening. "Doubt the rest of the Shepherds have, either."

"Yeah," I nodded. "Couldn't blame them." I picked up the snare drum stand, slid it in. "What you consider 'normal' in this world who be something else to those from mine. Vice versa, too: if you didn't know any better, you'd have thought us Wolves as some kinda alien race. I mean,"—and here, I raise my hands—"considering the things you've seen us do, I wouldn't blame you for thinking of us like that."

Robin's eyes widened. "Oh, no, I've never once thought of you like that!"

I picked up the other tom-tom. "I'm sure," I chuckled. "What made you want to back away from us? The shapeshifting? The regeneration? The equivalent-exchange stuff? The ability to eat a load of food at any one time?"

"None of it!" By now, the tactician pulled his hand off the chassis. "You guys have never _once_ been a burden on the Shepherds _or_ the people of Ylisse."

You know, I'd've expected Chrom to say something like that.

"Heh, all right, all right, I hear ya." _I_ kinda _beg to differ, but all right._ I picked up the bass drum kicker and set it in the trunk compartment. "Point is, Zero stuff notwithstanding, things like pegasi and real magic are about as alien to my world as horseless carriages, metal carrier birds, and guns are to yours."

"Uh…" I could tell Robin didn't quite know what to say. "I see."

 _Th-Thud._ With that, the last piece of the drum set was finally loaded into the SUV. I closed the trunk door, dusted off my hands, then turned to face Robin.

"You want to know why I was singing for Stardust, right?"

"Oh, uh, yeah."

"Okay, then…" I looked around, checking to make sure that no One else was around—and that the other Wolves were still not here yet. Then I leaned in slightly.

Robin obliged. Then I whispered…

_**22 41 66 74 65 72 20 61 6c 6c 20 74 68 65 20 73 68 69 74 20 49 27 76 65 20 64 6f 6e 65 2c 20 49 20 66 69 6e 64 20 69 74 20 68 61 72 64 20 746f 20 62 65 6c 69 65 76 65 20 696e 20 6d 79 73 65 6c 66 20 61 6e 79 6d 6f 72 65 2e 22** _

* * *

"equivalent-exchange stuff" - We believe that those who have some knowledge of the practice of alchemy are familiar with this concept? Either way, we needn't get into details. —Vaire

"metal carrier birds" - Brilliant succinct substitution, Blu. —Kyoku

* Are you really gonna keep being an a*****e, Kyoku? —Dreyza

* Yes, Leader. —Kyoku


	47. Please Don't Ask If I'm Your Mummy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Trey is frightened the hell out of by an "empty child"(?), and Sumia gushes about bedtime stories.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Author's Note** : Agh! Suffering writer's block again! Help! D:

#### "Please Don't Ask If I'm Your Mummy"

#### Trey

* * *

"AAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHH!"

During our time at Miriam's place, Dreyza, Vespyr, Kyoku and I would often watch sci-fi TV shows, like _Stargate SG-1_ and _Doctor Who_. In the evenings, we'd all pile into the den, and watch as a group of outsiders save the day on the other side of the glass screen. Thing is, a few of those episodes— _especially_ from _Doctor Who_ —left me absolutely terrified, too terrified to sleep at night. And of course, Vespyr would poke fun at me for pulling my blanket over my head for that.

…Which is a pretty pathetic segue into what happened this afternoon.

If you were wondering what the scream at the top of the page was all about, I woke up late in the Wolves' tent to find a figure standing over me. She was wearing a gas mask, curtained by her braided brown hair. Her head was tilted to the side. Then she asked, in a bad Estuary accent:

_"Are you my mummy?"_

Go figure that TV-show villains scare the crap out of me, more than entire armies and eldritch abominations. And believe me, we've met _those_ before.

With that deep-seated fear from a ( _very_ short) childhood dredged up, I jumped out of my sleeping bag and ran. I ran out of the tent and barreled my way through camp, panicking, my hearts beating like hummingbirds. It wasn't until I ran past the mess tent that I stopped. But _not_ because I decided to finally stop running.

It's because, one second after I turned right at the corner, I tripped.

"Ahhh— _OOF!_ " _THUD._

I think I kicked up a bit of dirt straight up my nose upon impact. I nearly choked.

"Ugh… _Ow…_ " I muttered, picking myself up from the ground. "…hm?"

I was on my hands and knees when I noticed that my shoe was stuck on some kind of strap. Then I looked behind my…erm…behind.

"Ouf… Today isn't really going well for me…" spoke the Shepherds' resident pegasus rider, face still down, leatherback book clutched in her hand.

"Ack! Sumia?!"

* * *

It took about 30 seconds for Sumia and I to finally untangle from each other.

"Uh, s-sorry about that," I said. "Are you okay, ma'am?"

There was a bit of dirt on her chin and the tip of her nose, otherwise, she _appeared_ to be all right.

"Yes, I'm fine, it's just…" She sighed. "I've been tripping all morning today. And, uh…"

"Is it the shoes again?" I asked.

Sumia nodded. Then she realized that she'd just nodded. "Uh, no! It's not the shoes! I mean, yes! I mean, no, it's—oh, gods…"

"Hey, take it easy," I interjected, hands up. "What's important is that no One is hurt."

 _And neither am I,_ I added mentally, _but nevermind._

Then I looked down at the book in her hand. "Oh, uh, what's that book you have?" I asked, trying to take my mind off the past five minutes.

"Huh? Ah, right! I just bought this from a bookstore nearby." With that, Sumia presented to me the cover of the thick green book:

_**109 Bedtime Tales of Various Varieties** _

"Ohhhh. So, this is a compilation of bedtime stories?" I asked.

"For readers of all ages," Sumia nodded. "Excluding anything, um,"— _cough, cough_ —" _ribald_ , of course, but everything for almost every audience. Funny, heartwarming, heartbreaking, scary…"

I stopped. So much for taking my mind off things. "S-Scary?"

Oblivious to my apprehensive expression, Sumia nodded affirmative. "Yup! Here, I'll look up the one that motivated me to buy it in the first place…"

 _Why_ wasn't I moving while she skimmed the table of contents?

"…abbububuppuh…Ah!" Her expression brightened(?). "Here we are. _Nancy & The Empty Child_! This one is really spine-chilling!"

"Y-You don't say?" I responded. "What's that one about?"

As we're having this conversation, I somehow fail to notice a certain presence slowly coming up the dirt path behind me.

"It concerns a girl who is constantly stalked by a boy no older than 10 during the dead of night," Sumia explains. "But _this_ boy isn't what you'd call 'normal'."

"Uh-huh?" _Crunch…crunch…chrunch…_ "In what way?"

"Well, first, he acted very much like a person brought back from the grave. Second, he always wore a black, bulky mask that wouldn't come off of his face. And finally…"

"Uh, f-finally…?" _Crunch, crunch._ The presence was directly behind me now.

"Wherever this boy went, no matter who stumbled upon him, he would always ask the same question, over and over again—"

 _"Are you my mummy?"_ asked the masked figure behind me, hand _slowly reaching_ for my shoulder—

"AAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHH!" I screamed as I ran.

And with that, the conversation was…over.

* * *

" _Doctor Who_ " - Surprisingly, that's _not_ where Ves and Kyoku got their accents. Hell, I don't even know if it had to do with their siblings. Ves, I can understand ( _maybe_ ), her brother being British; but _Kyoku?_ His big sis was from Japan; where you might find an "equivalent" of a "British accent" in Japan, I haven't the faintest. —Dreyza

* Don't look at me. —Blu

"…eldritch abominations." - How ironic… —Blu

"It took about 30 seconds…" - Couldn't be bothered to go into further detail? —Kyoku

* Kyoku, please. Shut. Up. —Blu

"She sighed." - Now I see that Cordelia rubbed off her friend. —?

* Wait, what the…? —Blu

" _ **109 Bedtime Tales of Various Varieties**_ " - Pretty sure the redundancy was intentional for that one. —Dreyza

" _Nancy & The Empty Child_" - Wait, what?! Seriously?! —Blu

"…I screamed as I ran." - Leaving a bewildered Sumia and sheepish Dreyza behind at the mess tent. I feel bad for…erm, "all three of them". —Vespyr


	48. How It Started, Luckily

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the origins of that goofy Risen incident are revealed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Author's Note** : Shoutout to **[The Apocryphal One](http://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Apocryphal_One)** for: A.) the idea for this fic, and B.) her _FEF_ fanfic, " **[The Invisible Princess](http://archiveofourown.org/works/6354970/chapters/14559007)** ", being recommended on [TVTropes](http://tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pmwiki.php/FanFic/TheInvisiblePrincess)! Also, another shoutout to **smileplease91** , who has gone through a lot of utter _crap_ in her real life. It's her work— _A Day in the Life_ —that inspired me to start this drabble-fic, so just knowing that one of my inspirations has recently gone through hell has been weighing on my mind for a while. Luckily, things are starting to get better for her now. Hope things get sunnier for you, smile!
> 
>  **EDIT (3/22/2017)** : Edited from original post.

#### "How It Started, Luckily"

#### Vespyr

* * *

The scratching and the _la-di-dah_ s woke me up from my nap under the tree. "Huh?"

As nothing major was going on today, the Shepherds were just unwinding from the fighting…or preparing for the next incursion or possible ambush. I decided that, since I was worn down from running all of yesterday, that I get some work in before Freddybear did…before running off to sleep under an evergreen. Of course, I made sure to let Dreyza know first (check-in via ZeroDrives); saved a headache.

And indeed it did. Henry, in his amoral cheerfulness, managed to unknowingly wake me up without pissing me off (sorry, Tiz).

It just took a minute to finally rub the sleep out of my eyes before getting up, looking around the forest. The Shepherds camp was some ways off to my left. The trail I'd taken from there snaked off several meters 'round my right and off into my five o'clock—where the humming was coming from.

Curious, I walked over, stretching my arms out. Muscles weren't feeling as stiff as before.

* * *

"Oh, heya, Vespyr!"

I chuckled as I strode into the clearing. "Y'know, I figured it _had_ to be the bleach-haired bloke going about his dark business in such a cheerful manner. What's that you're working on?"

You could be forgiven for thinking it was a pentagram or some other Satanic crap. The large circle he'd drawn with a stick contained a lot of letters that I'd seen from dark tomes like Mire. And in the center, in all its dirt-y grandeur, was the mark of the Grimleal—the Mark of Grima, the fell dragon.

"Not trying to summon Big, Scaly, and Smelly Bane of the World, are you?" I asked.

"What? You mean _Grima?_ " Then he laughed as he stood up. "Nya-ha-ha! Nah, of course not! That wouldn't be any fun—and besides, I wouldn't know _how_ to do that. I'm just trying to summon some Risen."

"For what?"

"For fun!"

I shook my head, somewhat amazed by this guy. "I know only _one_ other guy who could be as cheerful as you—and he wasn't into morbid stuff."

Henry turned to look at me. "Really? What does he like, then?"

"Women, apparently." I waved my hand dismissively, even as I tried to stifle a funny memory. "Okay, so, tell me: once you summon up these undead soldiers, then what? Gonna control 'em somehow?"

"Nope!" he said brightly, stepping away from the circle. "Can't do that. Once they're up, they'll kill anyone they see until you kill _them_. Pretty sure I already told Robin that. Besides," and here he turned to face me, "he told me about the Umbrals controlling them. So they have us humans beat there."

"Well, _that's_ true," I conceded. "…ooh, which gives me an idea: Henry, can you summon the Risen one at a time?"

"Huh? Why?"

I shrugged. "Well, I still need to sharpen my aim. And even if I _don't_ actually need that…" I drew out my Glint Magnum from my temple. "…I still need to vent my stress _some_ how, without killing anything alive."

"Ohhhhh!" Henry grinned. "Yeah, _and_ I never really saw how bloody that metal wand makes people."

"Hey—whatever means mutual benefits," I shrugged, before aiming towards the circle. "Ready when you are."

"Okie-dokie, artichokie!"

* * *

#### Endra

* * *

Reaching one hand up to uncover one ear from under my hood, I listened out, towards the eastern edge of the camp.

_Gunshots?_

Apparently, Dreyza, who was organizing weapons next to me, heard it to. Her discolored eyes seemed unconcerned.

"Vespyr?" I asked the young lady.

She nodded. "Henry must've dug up some Risen again."

I turned to look at her. "You sure they'll be all right?"

"Yeah. I mean,"—and thank the stars she didn't throw up her hands while clasping that axe—"it's the happy-go-lucky blood-phile mage and a gun. I'd bet my leadership on 'em."

"They're that good, huh?" After a moment, I shrugged. "All right, fair enough. Now, where does _this_ thing go?" I asked, holding up a _huge_ pine branch.

"…"

We spent the next 90 seconds laughing like imbeciles.

* * *

"…get some work in before Freddybear did…" - Before Frederick the Wary? Yeesh. You pushed yourself more than I did, and that's a little scary. —Blu

"…(check-in via ZeroDrives)…" - Source of power, means of communication, and the main reason you Zeros haven't died! Be grateful for your life-support, Wolves! —Noan

* _Oh_ my gods, SHUT UP, Noan! —Dreyza

"I know only one other guy who could be as cheerful as you—and he wasn't into morbid stuff. … Women, apparently." - Hmm. _Hmm._ Does this _ring a bell_ with anyOne? —Blu

"…metal wand…" - Wizard pumpkin juice, anyone? —Vespyr

* I'll pass. —Blu

"…holding up a hugh pine branch." - Oh, great. It's Angés and the bow all over again! —Vespyr


	49. The Deep River of Time…and me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> …

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Author's Note** : Okay, so since _Fire Emblem Fates_ has been unleashed upon us—with its good parts and bad parts—for a few months now, it's long since time for me to shift gears. As much as I like the _Awakening_ gang, I can't help but feel compelled to do with the _Fates_ clowns (because WTFreak are they fighting each other?) what I've been doing here.
> 
> That's why, as soon as this fanfic reaches Chapter 50 ( _that_ won't take very long), I'll begin to focus on a new one— _ **Talking About Anything - Fire Emblem Fates**_.
> 
> How original. xP
> 
> Yes, I'm gonna do _FEF_ —more specifically, _Fire Emblem Fates: Revelation_. I'll try to address some of the things that most people don't like about _Fates_ (e.g. the concept of the Deeprealms, the reveal about [ SPOILERS ], the convoluted nature of buying the games, etc.), but…I'll get into more detail once I start that.
> 
> Now, please understand—this _doesn't_ mean that I'll stop adding to _TAA - FEA_ , or abandon its main-story counterpart, _Fighting For Nothing_. It just means I won't do those _as_ much in the future. However, if you guys send me an idea (or five) about doing something with the _Awakening_ cast, I'll be sure to write some things up for that and post them in here.
> 
> Thanks for understanding!
> 
>  **EDIT (3/22/2016)** : Edited from original post.

#### "The Deep River of Time…and me"

#### Bluefield

* * *

 **Recommended** : _von_ by Yoko Kanno, from _Terror in Resonance_

* * *

Okay. I'll tell you, Princess. But you'd better take a seat. This might take a while.

Imagine that you are under the ocean, inclined on your back. Forty-five degrees. You can see the surface far, _far_ above your head. In its marine light, you can make out the little waves, if you try.

To either side of you is a vast expanse of blue. No fish, no sea flora, nothing—just water. Rocks are the only thing that break through the blue—the rocks on the river floor.

Now, look down.

The first thing you notice is that you are fastened to a massive boulder. You can move your arms freely, albeit slowly, but you can't move your lower torso. _Why?_ you likely ask. Ropes? Chains? Magic? Are you weighted down by something?

This is around when you discover the second thing, as you eyes focus on the mass in front of you: you're bound not with bindings. You are bound with _swords_.

At least _one hundred blades_ have found their new home in your stomach, your ribcage, where your lungs should be—and through them, the rock at your back. Every time you see this, you see the usual suspects.

Brotherhood—a sword containing the endless blue of the sea, unused by a fallen brother, and gifted to a man fallen out of a different world.

Kaito's Blade—the weapon of a mercenary who fought and died for freedom, with his last breaths; then inherited by a most unlikely individual.

The Monado—the red blade of a titan, the light that grants its user the power of foresight…provided its power doesn't kill you first.

These are among the ninety-nine swords biting into your stomach. Then you see the sword pierced right through where your heart should be. Usually, it's the ZeroSword. But many times, it isn't. Many times, the sword belongs to the hero of the story. It does _not_ belong in the chest of a nobody, an outsider who shouldn't be allowed to wield it, let alone have it impaled through them.

And this time…it's not even one sword. It's two.

You know what I'm talking about, Lucina, hence realization number three: the two Falchions—yours and your father's—are there, center stage, trapping you to the boulder at the bottom of this empty ocean.

Let that sink in for a sec.

…Okay.

Now, despite all three of these things, you can still realize a fourth thing—something you've been feeling for the whole of this, yet it hits you now: you can _barely feel anything_.

Sure, you can feel your head and your arms, but barely. It's just lethargy in there. Everywhere else? Like, say, where you've been stabbed? Nothing. There's no pain. None. No sharp stinging, not even a dull pain anywhere. You're just there, skewered to a rock, and there's no pain. Hell— _you can't even feel your legs._

May as well. They're useless down there.

Then you look up again, and you see the waves up there. They seem to be going downward, from your perspective. Over your head and into the blue unknown ahead of you—

—and the fifth realization hits you with the force of an Arcthunder tome: this is not an ocean.

_It's a river._

And an obscenely massive one, at that. Massive, and no life in sight to show for it. You are on the river floor of this monstrous piece of nature, and you have never felt so alone in your life.

Seconds pass, yet they feel like years. The current flows through your hair, through the blades, and you do nothing. You _can_ do nothing.

And then…you see them—under the surface, yet so far above your head.

The images, as the river draws them away from you forever, are hard to make out, but…I can at least show you what _I_ saw:

_Tidus, fading away like the dream he is, embraces from behind the one he loves, before diving to join the afterlife…_

_Juto, knowing that this may well kill him in the process, nods to the princess before destroying a fallen hero, remembering to absolutely do not die…_

_Fiora, with the help of a fading goddess, fights with everything she's got to protect Shulk—wielder of his enemy's bane, and one of her closest friends…_

_Tiz steps forward, with no intention of letting these cruel people lay a finger upon Angès…_

_Sumia, swooping down from the sky to save her liege, Chrom, from a misguided Feroxi attack in timely fashion…_

The images become more and more recent. More and more relevant. Less and less to do with the Zero who recorded those stories.

_Lissa and Lon'qu, escaping a group of assassins for as far as their legs will carry them, hand in hand…_

_Sully and Stahl, pushing each other in their training (again), aiming to go for as long as they can…_

_Robin embracing a weeping Lucina in a sunset-crested field, her late father's Falchion forgotten in her hands…_

As these images of companionship and love float over your head, you reach out a scarred hand—futile gesture. It sinks in how much you don't belong in their stories. How much you will never find the one thing they have.

The one thing even your two late teammates had.

And yet…you're long past caring.

As the bloom of memories drift out of your sight, you hand floats down, back to your side, and your eyelids slide shut. Alone, devoid of the presences of Ones or Zeros, your consciousness fades away…from the Deep River of Time.

That's my dream, Princess Lucina of Ylisse.

Any questions?

* * *

"But you'd better take a seat." - Before you get any ideas, the only thing Blu did here that involved things he hated was "himself". Which I'm not surprised by, given that it's _Bluefield_. —Burna

* On this, Staff Sergeant, we can agree. —Vaire

"Hell— _you can't even feel your legs._ " - Wise of Bluefield to avoid actually describing _that_ about the Zeros. —Vaire

* I know I keep asking this, but… _why?_ What is " _that_ "? —Trey

* Don't bother with 'em, Trey. They've always been tight-lipped. —Blu

"bloom of memories" - A group of jellyfish? —Trey

* Well, _some_ Zero did their research! —Kyoku


	50. Book Club Entry #3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the book club takes a break from being a book club.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Author's Note** : With every ending, comes forth a beginning. But is this really over? :)
> 
> Enjoy!
> 
> **EDIT (3/22/2017)** : Edited from original post.

#### "Book Club Entry 3"

#### Trey

* * *

By this point, we'd completely forgone talking about books.

"…So after Edea came into the changing room with the garment in question," Dreyza continued, trying _really_ hard to keep a straight face, "Agnès turned beet-freakin'-red, and I said, 'That's a _what?!_ ' Then I let out a laugh. 'O-kay! _This'll_ be fun!'"

Severa rolled her eyes. " _What_ was she thinking?"

Bluefield groaned, somewhere between wanting to laugh at the memory and _not_ wanting to laugh at Agnès. "To be fair, Ms. Oblige didn't know what a bikini was until she _actually_ saw it. _That's_ how sheltered she was."

Inigo scratched the back of his head, but oddly enough, stayed quiet. Perhaps fair enough, as, before Dreyza started telling this story of "The Clothes of Terrible Power", Blu preemptively told him that she's " _kinda_ already devoted to someone", that she currently has things to deal with without another dandy, and that he shouldn't waste his time.

"Yeah. So, Agnès starts stammering. Things like, are you sure this is clothing?! I'll catch my death of cold! And while Ringabel and the sage are outside, urging her to put it on, I'm still in the room with her, trying not to A.) laugh my ass off, and B.) imagine how the bikini would fit on _me_."

You wouldn't _believe_ how red I turned. "Oh, dear _gods…_ " Bluefield groaned.

Owain started. "N-No! You _will_ not tempt myself or my comrade, Temptress of Tempests!" He put a hand in front of his face and his other over Inigo's.

Dreyza laughed, before pausing. "Hey, that is…actually pretty damn clever! Okay, anyway…"

As she continued on with that story, I scanned the occupants of the table, existant and otherwise.

Severa and Dreyza were a far cry from most of the girls I'd met while staying at Miriam's and attending North Lhiasah High School—they weren't spiteful like most of the popular ones, _and_ they were far more honest. Plus, they were more likely to punch your lights out and bugger off. Inigo and Owain likely would've fit right into drama class—the very class that the bullies and the jockeys often picked on for not being "manly enough". Then again, those people likely would've had their butts handed to them just as easily.

Then I looked over at Bluefield, groaning and pinching his nose underneath his glasses.

Bluefield—probably the most complicated individual I've ever met.

When he stopped by North Lhiasah High to check on us—before everything began for us—he'd been accousted by some of the popular crowd. These bous and girls did the usual stuff to him what they'd do to us future Wolves: call him names, insult him, spit on him. Anything that wasn't…constructive. After about a minute of this, Blu _rounded_ on them, asked, "Which of you said something important?", then took the stairs to my classroom's floor. The crowd stayed behind because they'd started arguing about just that.

When I saw him peering through my classroom window, I recognized him, then lied that I had to use the restroom. At the same time, he tried to lose me as he went back downstairs, toward the entrance.

(Yikes, I don't think this is written well.)

I tried to call out to him, but I got accousted by the Populars again. Normally, they wouldn't lay a finger on me if either Dreyza or Vespyr were around with me—"punch beats slap", Ves told me—but not this time. And, they brought some people from the football* team to do their bidding.

They didn't get to do anything to me again, though.

Because that was when Blu turned around—and with a few words—got the Populars and the best of the footballers* in detention for attempting to leave campus during school hours.

Then, one month later, Umbrals attacked the school in broad daylight. They'd killed many of the Populars there, or worse. When Blu arrived to retrieve us and kill the monsters, he'd saved one of the Populars from an Umbral that had absorbed her friends, becoming an unholy amalgamation of human body parts that took her hostage. When Dreyza asked why he'd saved—ahem—"Queen B*tch", Blu remarked that while that _was_ an option (in fact, the female half of Vaire had even pointed that out), he wasn't going to just kill a civilian, no matter how much he hated them.

That said, he wasn't sure she deserved to be insane for the rest of her life.

I came back from reminiscing as Dreyza finished the story. "…and though she got last place in the pagent, Agnès still got her message through. But—" here, she got a little somber "— _that's_ a story for another time."

"Huh." Inigo scratched his chin. "You Wolves have had quite the adventures before coming here."

I shrugged. "Well, technically, Bluefield has at least three years on us. What other silly stories were there, sir?"

"Hmm…" Blu thought (noticeably ignoring what I said about "sir"). "Let's see: I covered the Bad Laughing, Celestine's Epic Love Potion Fail, Meeting Riki, Riki and Co. and the Dinobeast…uhhh…Dreyza already did Agnès and the Bow…"

Ouch.

"Hm… But what of you and your brethren, Bluefield? You haven't really spoken of their deeds and hijinks."

"Eh?" Blu scratched his chin at Owain's words. "…as for other things, there was the—oh, yeah!" The senior Zero's eyes brightened up. "There was the time Chisari burped out the whole English alphabet after drinking soda!" Chuckle. "Oh, gods, she was _not_ above that kind of stuff…"

Then a new voice popped up behind me. "Hey, everyone. What's going on?"

We all turned. Robin was leaning against the barracks doorway. He seemed a little stressed—my guess was today's war council was rather taxing for him.

Blu grinned. "Oh, we're just talking about anything." He reached under the table and pulled out an unopened can of cola. "Wanna join us for some laughs?"

* * *

"…that she currently has things to deal with without another dandy…" - …but _that's_ a story for another time. —Blu

"Plus, they were more likely to throw punches, not just slap their victim." - I'd like to add Sumia, except that time was an accident! —Noan

* Of _course_ it was an accident, d*ckhead! —Blu

"Bad Laughing" - It was _supposed_ to be like that, you clowns. —Noan

"Celestine's Epic Love Potion Fail" - Apparently, the said Love Potion only works on humans and the elf-like Mahré. —Vaire

"Meeting Riki" - It was like…what, Blu? A ten-second volleyball game? —Dreyza

* Yep. And remind me to tell you guys what volleyball is. —Blu

"Riki and Co. and the Dinobeast" - Oh, man, the ending to _that_ must've looked a little silly. —Kyoku

"Agnès and the Bow" - I don't need to tell you how _that_ got started. —Blu

"Oh, gods, she was _not_ above that kind of stuff…" - Indeed, Kyoku's sister _did_ live through the Sengoku era of Japan. "Goofing off" was not exactly high on her list of priorities at that time. That would be "survival". —Vaire


End file.
